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fabricated-misslieness · 4 months ago

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tyler owens x rancher male reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: tyler's back in an old town he recognizes, and he recognizes someone else too.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.32k

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: suggestive, but nothing explicit (like 1 kiss), very suggestive flirting

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: cowboy slang vocabulary

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Tyler shoulda known that riding 'round here, stopping in this specific town, would've earned him a run in with you.

In fact, maybe he did. Maybe, some part of that subconscious of his remembered that this was your town, and your old haunt, and it made him stop and get the whole group motel rooms for the night here.

He recognized this town, recognized the bar he led his friends to, recognized the stage in the corner. Maybe he didn't recognize the new teen band performing there today, but they're familiar anyway: a chill drummer and a bassist and guitarist that always bump heads.

And finally, of course he recognized you.

You raise your glass toward him as he enters, beckoning him to sit down next to you at the bar. The rest of the group settles for a booth near the dance floor, leaving Ben to stand nervously at the door. The journalist eventually follows the group, though his eyes don't leave outlier.

"Hey sweetheart." He greets with a lazy smirk, ordering his choice of poison without looking at the bartender so he can look you in the eye.

"Hey stranger." You greet in turn, tipping your hat. "What brings you to town?"

"Well, the season drives me everywhere in Tornado Alley, you know." The liquid courage that makes its way into his hands and later down his throat feeds his smile, which grows wider.

"Should I be worried?" You joke.

"No, sweetie." The name makes you roll your eyes, like you always do when his endearing nicknames get used like that. "You know the brunt of it doesn't get here."

As the two of you mostly catch up, with the nicknames and flirting taking a backseat, Ben looks on. For once, he's not thinking about getting it on a paper, he's just curious. Tyler seems to know at least one person at each town they go on, but he's never seen him so...touchy? No, there's something about it Ben can't put his finger on.

"Eavesdropping, huh?" Lilly chimes in, leaning around Ben the same way the man leans over the corner of the booth seat.

Ben yelps audibly, but thankfully for him, not too loud. "No. No, I can't hear them from here." He shakes his head. In an attempt to hide his embarrasment, he replaces it with a question that'll distract her. "Who's he?"

"(Y/N), our food supplier. He sells for cheap for the tornado recovery meals and stuff." Lilly explains.

Dani, who was previously looking at Boone making a fool of himself on the dancefloor, chimes in. "Because ranches don't run on hopes and rainbows."

Lilly nods her head along.

"That's it?" His eyebrows furrow, and he leans over the corner again to sneak a glance. The two of you are so engrossed in your conversation that you're definitely not going to turn towards the booth, even if Tyler mentions the group.

"Well, rumor has it he's an old link." Lilly suggests with a laugh.

Ben doesn't know what the word means. "A boyfriend?"

"No," She smiles, clearly amused, "but let's just say that. You're probably wondering why you haven't heard anything about him."

Boone practically collapses onto the booth table before Lilly can continue. He steals a tall glass of water from someone and practically gulps down half of it in one go. None of the group seems to mind so much. As he catches his breath, he follows the groups' gaze to the pair at the bar. "Oh, (Y/N)? I didn't even realize he was here."

Dani laughs and pats his shoulder. "Yep. You gonna say hi, steal him for the dance floor?"

"Nah." He waves his hand dissmissively. "I bet the lovebirds are gonna bone. I'll see him at the hotel tomorrow morning."

Ben doesn't know that word either. Dexter whispers the meaning in his ear and his eyebrows raise. "So he is a boyfriend?"

"No." Boone straightens up and stretches. "At least, not anymore. They might've been high school sweethearts or something, but not anymore. While Tyler became a bull rider after high school, (Y/N) inherited his grandparents' farm and got straight to work."

Ben nodded along with the story. So that's how they got you as their supplier. "So they broke up–"

"Allegedly."

"–allegedly because they went down different paths?" Ben huffed. "If it was me, I would've tried."

Dexter chuckled at how the journalist accidentally insulted Tyler. He shook his head. "They might not have broken up. We just know they had a falling out when Tyler officially settled into the storm chaser profession."

"When we first got to 10k subs!" Boone chimes in.

"The food supplying was handled over text, and storm chasing is busy business, you know?" Ben nodded, so Dexter continued. "So then their relationship turned mostly transactional, and their affectionate bonds kind of disappeared, because Tyler didn't have time to reply."

"Wow, that sucks." Ben's empathy showed physically as he frowned. "What about off-season?"

"Disaster recovery is an extensive process." Dani reminded him. "We use (Y/N)'s goods after we get the folks to temporary homes as a kind of food stamp."

"And–?"

"They moved on." Lilly patted Ben on the shoulder reassuringly. "Storm chasing ain't for the weak-willed, Ben. It's all or nothing. You live for it, or you leave it, and someone has to manage the ranch, right?"

"So, basically, Tyler is dating storm chasing," Boone says with a toothy grin, "and has no time to date anyone else."

That's never stopped you from having your fun everytime he shows up around town.

"Storm Par still on your ass?" You ask, swirling your glass absentmindedly.

"As always." He laughs, drumming his own fingers against the wood of the bar countertop. "But we have a new genius in the crew!"

"Do you?" You raise a brow. He gestures in the direction of the booth with the tip of his hat, making you look. Everyone waves at you enthusiastically, even Boone, who you'd caught mid-sip, except for the new guy who shrinks back into the cushions. "The one with the glasses?"

"Yep, that's Ben." Tyler speaking brings your eyes back to him, as it always tends to do. "Journalist, has a way with words. He's going to write about our Tornado Wrangling crew, and storm chasing."

"Hmm," You hum low, kind of with displeasure. "you're not going to make him write about Storm Par too, are you?"

You had him pegged down to a T. He sighed, "Well..."

"That'll get him in trouble and you know it." You shoot him a disappointed look. He's been getting those more and more these days; or he has, since you got that ranch of yours.

To hide himself from the simmering shame it gives him and to get more courage, he downs the rest of his drink. "Yeah, but, um...let's just talk about us, yeah?"

You exchange a look. He smiles, you frown, it's a battle. Eventually, he wins, because how can you say no to him?

You roll your eyes, "You're lucky I miss you, Ty."

"Do you?" His eyes light up and he takes your free hand in his. He can't hide his joy, despite the fact you always say that every time you see each other.

"Yes I do, poppet." You huff out a laugh, "You're a twister of your own, you know? Leaving damage that reverberates for years."

He feigns offense, a hand over his heart. "I leave damage, huh?"

"Yep. You know what? I'm not the only one who misses you. The chickens miss you, the goats miss you, the cows miss you, the ranch dogs miss you." The entire list makes him laugh, but you're not done yet. "So do my horses, and hell, the ranch cats too. You know how hard it is for a ranch cat to get attached?"

"And Brisket?" Brisket, the little indoor dog. He was a puppy when they last met, Tyler wonders how big he's gotten now.

"Of course Brisket misses you." You groan, like it's really a big problem. "You met him as a puppy, he's wondering where his second dad went."

His eyebrows raised. Second dad? Whew, the subtle flirting is making him swoon. "Buy him a couple treats for me." He playfully reaches into his pocket for his wallet to further the joke.

"What is this, child support?" You glare at him with a fake snarl.

That makes Tyler laugh out loud. He reaches for both your hands, hoping the creases on your scary look will smooth out. "I promise I'll be a present father someday."

You roll your eyes again, except this time when they return to him, they soften. "When will that be?"

"How's tomorrow sound?" The smile returns too, and he loves it. "Oh, and you don't mind having five more little helpers, do you?"

"Sounds perfect." You squeeze his hands. "For how long?"

"Ehm..." He bites his lip, and your smile falters. "A day, maybe?"

"Darling..." You sigh, "That's not exactly a present father."

"I know, I know." He shakes his head, letting his gaze fall to your connected hands. "I'm a terrible father, a terrible man as well, to boot. Useless for this family as a hill of beans."

"Well," You shrug your shoulders, disconnecting one of your hands to cup his cheek and pull his gaze back up to you. "season's just starting, so I understand. Make me a promise, though."

"Oh?" This is new, not that Tyler cares for the substance of the promise. "Anything for you, baby."

"God, hear me out first, will you?" You shake your head. "It's two promises, actually. For tonight," With the hand on his cheek, you boop his nose. "we'll dance on that dance floor back there, and–"

"Ugh, seriously?" He groans preemptively. "I don't want that picture on Ben's article."

Tyler is a good dancer, he really is, but he's almost entirely sure that the predominant style of dancing in this here town is silly to those Brits out there and he's going to get mocked 'till high hell. Oh, whatever. All publicity is good publicty, aye? The Brits ought to know how a real man dances, anyway.

"–and, then we'll share your room."

"Woh-hoah."

Tyler's sure that, even if it were anyone else you were flirting with, they'd have caught onto your drift, because you are one hot man and that wink you consequentially send him is sexier than anything he's ever seen. Out of the sheets, of course.

"Cat got your tongue, darl'?" You chuckle, patting his cheek before pulling away confidently.

"No, no, it's just," His mind's still boggled by how handsome you are, so he blinks repeatedly to register all of it. "I'm swoonin' alright? Give me a moment."

He loves that little proud look you give him, and realy wants to return the flirting, even if he's already messed up the flow. Luckily it looks like you'll allow him to.

"Okay," He clears his throat, "why share a room, rancher? You live right on the outskirts o' town. I'm sure that bed of yours with grandma's handmade quilt is a lot nicer than my little hotel room."

Tyler knows damn well what you're going to do in that room, but he's playing along.

"Sometimes the company beats comfort, love." The way you call him love makes his knees weak. "Not that I'm in search for comfort tonight."

He laughs, a little too prolonged as he comes up with something in return. "And why do you reckon I'm good company?"

"You might just be any Alfalfa Desperado's dream: a big, strong man who's technically unemployed and knows how to ride a horse." It's as much an excuse as it is a distraction to shock him more with what comes next. "Plus, a twister like yourself is sure to tumble the sheets well."

"Rougher than an earthquake, I can guarantee that." He grins, sending a smooth wink of his own.

"Don't guarantee it." You huff out a laugh, "I'd have to pay you a little extra."

"I want that little extra." He makes a show of licking his lips. "Anything you can offer, I'll make sure to match, sweetheart."

The both of you are leaning closer everytime you send a comment or compliment. He's missed this, missed you, so much: the easy intimacy and smiles, winks and eventual kisses.

As your lips near, he realizes that all this flirting's making him forget that second promise you spoke of. "What was that second promise, anyway? Do I gotta agree to both to get tonight's?"

"Well, no," The way your inconspicuous eyes snap to the high corner of the room earns his intrigue. "but it'd certainly earn you a little bit o' brownie points."

"Hit me." He grins wide.

"Make a little time for me off-season," The heated atmosphere leaves as you begin, because your flirty facade melting into something less confident, more nervous. "a week, two, or maybe a month...like I said, Brisket misses you... If you can, that is! If not, like, no hard feelings–"

He doesn't like the way you said all that in a rush. He doesn't like that you say it as if it were silly and something he'd never agree to.

He cuts off your doubts with a quick kiss. "I swear."

Because he means it. He will, he swears it.

The way your eyes are on his when they flutter back open makes his heart swell. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me." He knocks his nose softly against yours. "I should've done that along time ago."

"Yes indeed, you should've!" You're back to being sassy, and the easy atmosphere comes back. He laughs, but he can't deny you.

He should've made time for you long ago. It's not something he can say whatever to, but he can say it's in the past now, and when the season ends, he'll make up for it.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

ɴᴏᴛᴇ: no bc how is this 2k words long

#tyler owens x male reader #tyler owens x reader #twisters fanfiction #twisters x male reader #twisters x reader #🌸 // success!#💞 // darlings #🎟 // twisters #🎫 // tyler owens #🎫 // tyler #👑 // nearly there!

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fabricated-misslieness · 4 months ago

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i failed. it's soft.

random tiktok hit me with another glen powell/tyler owens holy damn so its time to write a flirty fic because i lack a flirty fic

#🧶 // yarn scraps #🧺 // my yarn

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fabricated-misslieness · 4 months ago

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random tiktok hit me with another glen powell/tyler owens holy damn so its time to write a flirty fic because i lack a flirty fic

#🤤 // thirstin #🧶 // yarn scraps #🤬 // swearshirt

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fabricated-misslieness · 4 months ago

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If there's any proof I'd be more famous if I wrote m4f or fem reader or whatever it's these Tyler Owens fics

#i know m4f is an audio term but still #🧶 // yarn scraps

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fabricated-misslieness · 4 months ago

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tyler owens x gn reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.08k | part 1

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: today is tomorrow and it's time to talk about your feelings.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: awkward love confessions

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I actually wrote this yesterday but think it's better to space it out

☾⋆☆⋆☽

When you awaken the next morning, you blink repeteadly but slowly, trying to fight the sleepiness pulling you back in. It's a hard battle, you and sleep push and pull like dogs in tug of war, but the more aware you are about your surroundings, the better your grip on the rope.

There's distant chatter, the others are probably up already, there's Boone being his usual loud self and Dani telling him to quiet down. Then there's Ben snapping pics away, probably at the sky or documentary-style of the group waking up, and Dex cooking something that sizzles.

Finally, there's Tylers arms around you. You sigh contently and cuddle closer, then finally open your eyes.

Oh, he's awake first.

He's there, on his side, just watching you sleep. When your eyes flutter open, his eyes find yours, and for a moment you just stare at each other. He smiles and huffs out a laugh, and you do the same.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you feel hot, beginning on too hot. The blanket and his arms and the rising sun call you out of the truckbed, but you stay, just to be with him.

"Creepy." You comment, though your smile doesn't fade.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were an angel, but clearly not." You might just be, the way his hand climbs up your arm to then cup your cheek, and you lean into it.

"You're the one watching me sleep."

Tyler doesn't roll his eyes, but he does roll his body, pulling you along with him. Your head presses on his chest and half of you is on top of all of him, but you also squirm. He lifts his head to look down at you, digs his fingers through all your hair to feel your scalp. "Hot?"

"Yeah."

He leans down with a small huff and kisses your forehead before beginning the somewhat hard process of untangling your limbs, hard only because he doesn't want to.

"How'd you sleep?" He asks. This morning he's the one that's more awake.

A low sound leaves your throat, maybe a groan or you just cleared your throat, he doesn't know. "Good."

"Yeah?" He slides off the truck bed first, then helps you. Together you sit on the tailgate, stretching your limbs and easing your joints into a new day.

"Yep." You bump your fist casually against his shoulder then stand up first, heading off to see what Dexter's cooking.

Tyler watches your figure for a moment as it leaves him. He wonders if he should've mentioned the kiss. He wonders if he should apologize for it, or if he and you should maybe talk about what it made you feel.

Fuck, he doesn't know.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Tyler's usually good at feelings.

He's good at sensing chemistry and building bonds. He's good in that he's kind, and that he knows how to comfort someone, that he always knows what to say. He's good at boundaries, good at skinship, and good at kissing.

But when you're around, suddenly he's not good at any of that.

It's evident because he hasn't talked about it all day. He can excuse himself by saying he's been busy, the whole day's been meet and greet after meet and greet, but he's always managed to make time for you before.

The how doesn't really matter, and neither does the why, because the two of you have been doing this for years, so it has to be something about the combination of you and him.

This relationship of yours, it's been old news for the longest time. Dani, Dexter, Lilly and Boone have been aware of this for years, and yet neither of you have really noticed.

Tyler watches you as you and Lilly chat away. He watches your smile and listens to your laugh, and they're both just the same as they've always been, but he still loves them.

Suddenly, someone taps him on the shoulder and makes him jump.

"Shit," Tyler shifts on his feet and snaps his head towards the culprit: Ben. The skittish journalist, Ben, out of all people, got him to jump. He's not an easy man to scare by any means, he's been through storms and tornadoes of the highest speeds, and he actually jumped.

"Hey man." He rubs his nose and pretends to be fine, not startled.

Ben does take note of the whole thing, but he doesn't comment on it, and decidedly doesn't write it down. He clears his throat, offers a sheepish smile, and gestures to his pen and paper. "Hey Tyler. I was wondering something."

"What's up? Something for your article?" Tyler's amicable, despite the whole thing.

"Yeah." Ben bites his lip, gathering courage, and eventually asks the question. "Are you and (Y/N)...in a relationship?"

"What? No." Tyler immediately denies it, crossing his arms. "No, we're just friends."

There must be something about the way he says it, because Ben's words come out in a rush. "Oh, I'm sorry, it's just," He puts his writing things down and avoids Tyler's gaze. "I don't know, I saw you cuddling last night–and, and, I'm sorry, actually, for intruding, but I was just curious, you know, about your whole night routines, and–"

Ben just about looks like he's about to have a heart attack.

"Ben! Ben, dude, it's alright." Tyler puts his hands on Ben's shoulders and calms the man down. "It was obvious, we didn't even try to hide it, it's fine."

"S-So..?"

He sighs. "Was it that noticeable?"

"I mean, yeah." Ben replies and that's all Tyler needs to know.

The storm chaser pats his shoulders and pushes him away lightly. "You're good to go, man, just don't write that down in your article, alright? Focus on the twisters."

Ben nods rapidly and walks off, nearly stumbling over himself.

Well, that was something. Nevermind the whole nervousness, that's just Ben being Ben, it's the other thing that catches Tyler's attention. If someone like Ben, who's only been riding with them for a short amount of time, can notice this thing between the two of you, he might just be doomed.

Tyler's just making excuses now, and he knows it...and he just let Ben leave thinking that you're in a relationship. He'll talk to you later, he will. He just has to hype himself up, form a plan.

No, no, Ben's just a journalist. He's trained for the details.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

He likes you, you like him.

He knows that, he's sure of that. Tyler gathers his face in his hands and tries to calm himself by steadying his breaths.

He likes you, you like him.

It's obvious, it's been that way for years, so what's wrong?

He knows what's wrong. Relationships aren't as simple as he likes you, you like him, nor are they as simple as hugs and kisses.

Oh god, there you are.

Oh god, here it goes.

"Hey." Tyler steps in front of you, blocking your path.

"Hey." You stop abruptly, but manage to not bump into him. "What's up?"

"Can we..talk about that kiss?" He hates the way your face immediately drops, but he has to talk about this. You've avoided the subject long enough.

"...sure."

He takes you off to the side, on the side of his truck facing away from the rest of your friends. His mouth opens and closes like a gaping fish, he doesn't know where to start. "I'm sorry," That wasn't where he was supposed to start. "for asking that from you."

"It's okay, I–" You begin, but he cuts you off, too nervous to really mind himself.

"You like me." Tyler mentally curses. It was him first, not you.

"Um..." You on the other hand...well, you've known for years. It's quite obvious, the mutual crush you have for each other. It's the rest that's hard. "yeah, I do."

"I like you."

"You do."

Okay, shit, now what? He knows what's next. He's done this before, but he can't get the words out of his mouth. "We–"

"I–" At the same time, you start too.

You both cringe and wince, gesture to each other, begin to say "You first," or, "no, no, you go on."

You've been best friends for years. You've talked about everything under the sky. You've talked about the sun, the trees, worms, horses, tornadoes and death. He knows everything about you, and you know everything about him, so why is this so hard?

"I liked the kiss," You begin with, and a wave of relief washes over Tyler both because of what you said and because he doesn't have to start first. "and I gave it to you for a reason, you know? I wanted to."

"That's good, cause I liked it too." He smiles, gingerly. "Um...right, what's next?"

You laugh, "I think I ask you out, or you ask me out."

And that's where the problem is. It's not dates, no. He imagines those will come easy. Its that... you've been friends for years, just friends, and he's scared of what a relationship will do to that. Moreover, he's scared of the lives you both lead. You're storm chasers. One mistake, and you're gone, and he's left grieving; or worse, he's gone, and you're left. He can't leave you to grieve like that.

"I'm scared." Tyler admits sheepishly, laughing awkwardly at himself, because he's ashamed of this fear of his. It should be easy. He loves you more than life itself, wants you more than life itself.

"I know." You say, because it's obvious in his eyes, in his gestures, in the way he stands. Tyler's never like this. You want to reach out, comfort him, but you're scared too. "That makes two of us."

Tyler used to be as scared of tornadoes as he was amazed by them. That's why he modified his truck the way he did. He gave it an exoskeleton, reinforced its frame, weighted it, and gave it an anchor system. That got rid of his fear, replaced it with safety.

You reach out and hold his hand, snapping him out of his thoughts. "You remember what you always say about fear?

He grins, intertwining your fingers, "You don't face your fears, you ride them."

"I'm afraid, cause we've been like this for years, that a relationship might change us." You admit, looking into his eyes. The obvious uneasiness melts when you lock eyes, replaced with adoration. It makes his heart swell. "And you?"

"I'm afraid to lose you, or that you'll lose me, you know, in our line of work." He'll never forget your face, but he cups your cheek anyway, to admire you. "Getting too attached will make it worse if both of us..."

"We're already attached, aren't we?" It's only when he hears you say it that he realizes it, and it's attachment beyond friends already.

"Yeah," He also realizes there's no way he'll treat you any differently–a turn for the worse, that is–if you get into a relationship. "and the way we treat each other won't change, will it?"

"You're right." You admit with a sigh, "I'll kiss you more, hug you more, but nothing'll happen less."

"Aww, you won't even call me dumbass less?" The joke comes out naturally, which means the mood's turning lighter, even more when you laugh.

"Not a chance, Owens." You narrow your eyes defiantly at him, then say, "So then I'll be your top 1?"

"Well..."

"Tyler."

"Okay, dove." He rolls his eyes, says it reluctantly as he can, but he can't hide that hint of endearment when he calls you dove. "You're my favorite person."

Your smile grows wider, and he just wants to kiss it. "We'll give it a try, then. Kisses, hugs, more time alone, dates?"

"Absolutely." Tyler brings your hand to his face to kiss it instead, because he just barely wants to speak more than he wants to kiss. "I'll be careful storm chasing." When you raise a brow at him, he corrects himself, "Okay, I'm reckless and I love to be reckless, but I promise I'll keep it safe."

He doesn't realize he hasn't popped the question until you do. "Would you like to be my boyfriend, Tyler?"

"Yes, dove," He leans in to place a quick kiss on your forehead. "I'll be the best fucking boyfriend you'll ever have."

"Lotta promises for one night, cowboy." You point out, placing a hand over his chest.

With a chuckle, he looks you in the eye so you know he's serious. "I'll keep every one."

#tyler owens x gn reader #tyler owens x reader #twisters x reader #twisters x gn reader #twisters fanfic #🌸 // success!#🤬 // swearshirt #💞 // darlings #🎫 // tyler owens #🎫 // tyler #🎟 // twisters

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fabricated-misslieness · 4 months ago

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I watched the kiss scene in twisters they cut out and oh my fucking god

#hold on i have a tag for this #🤤 // thirstin #🧶 // yarn scraps #glen powell the man that you are #🤬 // swearshirt

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fabricated-misslieness · 4 months ago

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I watched top gun maverick years ago and got the hots for rooster & hangman (rooster especially) but didn't write anything about it, but now I kinda want to (I've been reading fics in my new obsession with glen powell)

Should I?

#pls reply #🙏#🧶 // yarn scraps

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fabricated-misslieness · 4 months ago

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tyler owens x gn reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.39k | part 2

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: not communicating and not talking about your feelings (not miscommunication since you don't even communicate)

☾⋆☆⋆☽

There's too many beds.

The one night where you guys don't manage to make it to a motel, there's too many damn beds.

The camper van can fit pretty much all of you at once, not that the seven of you will do that anyway. Dani and Dexter have claim on it, as the drivers, and will probably accept two more comfortably.

In Lilly's van there's the backseat and the floor, but if we're counting, for how many beds there are by technicality, the two front seats as well.

You always have tents and sleeping bags around too, just in case you guys can't drive everyone from any recently unfortunate communities to the nearest hotel (although you'd certainly try). To give a rough estimate, about a dozen tents?

Then there's Tyler's truck, the two front seats and the back seat, and the truck bed. It's a bit short, but it can fit plenty people curled up.

So what to choose?

You should probably stay in a car. Much more heat that way, but who's gonna take you in? The designated drivers obviously prefer their own cars, so... Dexter's campervan is pretty spacious? Then again, so's Lilly's, and to be honest she's more of a vibe than the other two, but also why would you need vibes if you're just sleeping?

Maybe you should start a fire, huddle around that? No, that's a hazard, nevermind the fact you only know how to start a fire in theory.

Let's stick to a car, then. Lilly or Dex & Dan for space... Lilly, sure, why not?

As you start heading over to Lilly's van, you hear a sharp whistle. You don't have time to wonder who it's from, as Tyler spins you around.

"You're coming with me." He proclaims, taking you by the shoulders, and you can only laugh.

"Why me?"

Tyler grins, walking you unceremoniously towards his truck bed. "Because you're you, dove." That alone sounds rather intimate, so he fixes his mistake quickly. You're just friends, after all. "And Boone kicks people in his sleep, Lilly's hair gets everywhere, Dani steals the blankets, Dexter snores, and Ben...it's pitiful how he squeezes himself into the corner whenever he's sleeping next to someone, so we always give him his own space."

Right, all good points you'd forgotten.

"So why exactly am I better?" You tease, stopping in your tracks so Tyler bumps into your back and stay close.

"You're warm." And at first it seems like that's the only thing he'll say, your only benefit, as he pauses; but then the rest comes spilling out like a toad strangler. "You're also soft, you don't steal the blanket, you don't complain when I suddenly start talking and you don't snore."

Tyler doesn't mention that the two of you cuddle when you bunk together, and that you bunk together often. He doesn't mention how tonight he'll let you cuddle up on his chest, or perhaps how he'll press his nose against yours and let you play with his hair, because simply mentioning it will mean you'll have to talk about it.

You don't want to talk about, you think; and neither does he. You don't want to talk about how there's something different with the way he slings his arm around your shoulder, or the way you knock your head against his, or how he always gives out your share of whatever (pizza, cookies, etc.) before anyone else, or how you always offer your help to him no matter what.

They're always easy things to ignore, his skinship is not conditional and neither is your kindness, but there's something about the way you look into his eyes when you say thank you, and something about the way his touch lingers.

You don't want to put your finger on it, at least not this season. You'll say it again the next season, and the next, but you ignore that.

"So then I'm your favorite person?" You turn around and bonk your fist against his chest.

He whistles again, drawn-out like he does in awkward moments, but you know it's only playful. "Don't push your luck, dove. You're like... top 5!"

"Top 5? Aww," You feign offense, plopping your hand over your own chest now, "I didn't make it to top 3?"

He splays out his hand and begins to count on his fingers. "There's my mom, then my dad, then the family dog, Liam from the rodeo, and then you."

"The family dog?" Your eyebrows furrow, and the acting seems a bit too real until the look on your face gives away to a memory of his dog giving you kisses. "Oh, yeah, okay. I get it."

"See? You get it." Tyler chuckles, spins you back around and keeps on walking.

The spot you guys picked today is drier than the last, which is something you're thankful for. It's quite far from any town, but the streetlights that adorn the far off road make you feel a bit safer that civilization is just around the corner. There's a light breeze, not too cold and not too fast, and the stars! Oh, the stars.

They're damn nice out here cause they're actually visible tonight, a little less light pollution, you think. It's certainly a lot brighter than, say, NYC or Washington.

"Ain't they pretty today?" Tyler comments, his hands on your shoulders squeezing.

"Yeah. Sparkly too. You know any constellations?"

"No," He hums, his voice holding a bit of lament. "I tried, once. I tried taking a class in college. Astrology."

"How'd that go?" You ask offhandedly, hopping onto the bed of the truck.

"Ended up being too stressed with my main curriculum and dropped the class before it got too far." He fixes a tarp over the top of the truck bed, over the exoskeleton, so not much light will shine over your eyes when you try to sleep.

"The smart Tyler Owens got too stressed?" You ask as you help him up.

"Being smart doesn't mean I have good time management." Tyler says as he sits next to you, and you shrug. Suppose he's right.

"Still pretty though." You hum, leaning your head against his shoulder as you look up.

"Yeah." He agrees. His arm comes to wrap around you naturally, running up and down your side. "Have you ever tried to come up with constellations with... I don't know, whoever you were looking at the sky with?"

"You know what? I don't think so." You raise a finger, tracing a path in the stars for a moment, trying to find something interesting.

He finds one before you, pointing at a group of stars in a weird glob shape. "There, a cloud!"

That alone gets you to let out an ugly, surprised laugh; despite how ugly you might've thought it to be, he thinks it's cute. "You trynna cloudgaze with stars, cowboy?"

"Shut up." He laughs, knocking his head against yours. "You try, genius."

After a couple seconds, you point out a distinct...cone shape in the sky. "Unicorn horn."

"Unicorn horn?"

"What am I supposed to say, cone?"

"You could've said ice cream cone, a little more age appropriate, you know?" He holds out his hand, holding out a small gap between his index and thumb fingers to accentuate little.

"Yeah, well it has no ice cream, dumbass."

"Woah," Tyler withdraws, raising his hands in surrender. "no need to get so defensive, dove."

You slap his hands only to draw them back around you. He has no complaints about that. "Clearly we both suck at this. Let's just admire the stars normally."

He huffs out a laugh but turns his gaze back to the night sky without complaint. It's rather peaceful, this moment, and so nice. Maybe it's not rare that you get comfortably quiet moments with him, nor is it ever rare for Tyler to hold you close like this, but it doesn't make it any less endearing.

"Look!" Tyler breaks the silence suddenly, finger tracing a path in the stars. "A heart."

"You're kidding." You huff out. He's just playing with you, he has to be, especially after your miserable attempts at finding shapes in the sky.

Despite yourself, your eyes will the stars above you into the shape of a heart. Goddamnit, you think, because it's definitely a sign.

"I'm going to sleep." You tear yourself away from his grip and he laughs and tries to steal you back to him, but you fight briefly and end up winning. It's a nice victory, especially because you won over him, but it's not on par with actually finding something in the sky (and you're avoiding the sign).

Tyler chases after you, flopping down beside you. The tarp above casts darkness over the back of the truck bed, but a soft glow still shines through.

You sigh and tuck a hair of Tyler's behind his ear, to which he only laughs. "Jealous, much?"

"Oh, totally." You'd roll your eyes, but they're stuck on his.

"I won." He's triumphant, but you can only focus on how pretty his smile looks.

"You did." You reply, not fighting him on it, and slowly his amusement fades away with the deflation of his body.

"You're not making this fun." Tyler steals your hand, presses the back of it to his lips and notably does not pucker up and kiss. It might be payback, or it might be avoiding the obvious intimacy that kissing you is.

"It wasn't a competition, anyway." You remind him, and he rolls his eyes.

His attitude eventually exudes out of him with a sigh, and he lets go of your hand to push closer. His head rests below your chin, his nose against your neck, and it's not new, but it's not old either.

"I'm sick n' tired of you." He huffs against your neck as you take the opportunity to tuck the both of you in.

You hold back a laugh. "Oh, yeah? Tell me why."

His voice is muffled against your neck, and maybe the vibrations tickle, but you don't dare move away. "I won! We should be celebrating that."

"Celebrate it in your dreams." Despite it being practically the same thing as in your dreams, it actually sounds quite genuine.

"Don't be like that," Tyler whines. "let me stay up for a little while."

You put your hand in his hair, then, twirling strands around your fingers and scratching his scalp, and Tyler hates you and also loves you, because it feels so good that it pulls a groan out of him, but it's lulling him to sleep.

"You're cheating." He whines again. He's being rather childish, huh?

"It's way past your bedtime." You say in a sing-songy way. Curiosity takes over, and you pull his head away from you gently to look into his eyes.

They open once you pull him off you, just barely. Half-lidded, not by lust, but by sleep. "I just wanna hold you for a little while longer." He says, and you don't know how he does it, but his eyes have turned pleading.

"That's on you to try, cowboy." You huddle close again, allowing him to take up the same position as before.

Despite himself, Tyler sighs contently, wrapping his arms around your midriff. One of your hands is on his back, rubbing slow circles, and the other is back on his hair.

He's definitely not going to last long now.

"When's the last time you've ridden a horse?" Tyler babbles on to try to keep awake, but you can hear the sleepy lilt in his voice. "I think my last time was when I last visited home, before the season started."

"One sheep over the fence, two sheep over the fence–"

"Shuddup."

You laugh, hands smoothing over his hair again. You're not sure how you're not very sleepy right now, tucked under the blankets, in his warm hold. Maybe it's the subconscious thought of not accidentally hitting your head on the spare wheel above you, or the faraway feel of the ridges of the truck bed below you.

Or maybe it's wanting to tease him.

"Kiss me."

"What?"

You've kissed before, little playful things: cheek kisses for the camera, neck kisses to either scare you or tickle you, forehead kisses after particularly dangerous scares, hand kisses when he's trying to act all gentlemanly, temple kisses after hugs. You've never kissed him on the lips before, and actually, neither of you have ever explicitly asked for a kiss. They've always been given without question.

"Please?" He asks again, pulling back so that his forehead is off your neck.

Oh, he only wanted a forehead kiss.

You oblige happily, press your lips against his forehead and let out and exaggerated muah!

"No, not there." He pulls away almost entirely, scooting up to be face to face.

You'd laugh, if what he was asking you for wasn't a kiss on the lips. You can't lie, you've thought about it before, when the sun shines a particular way over his face at sunset, or when he's considerably too hot to ignore.

...you're going to have to talk about this tomorrow.

Except tomorrow is not today yet, and so you cup his cheek. You debate it for a moment, a yes or a no, but there's one answer clear in your mind, a yes.

You press your lips against his, and it's more subtle than that forehead kiss, and it feels so much more tangible, in a way. His lips move against yours, a languid thing, a soft thing.

You wonder if he's going to remember this tomorrow, if being as sleepy as this is equivalent to being drunk.

"Thank you." Tyler says as you part, and he settles back where he was, head against your neck. He seems satisfied now, willing to nod off.

"Don't mention it." You say automatically.

Okay you're definitely going to have to talk about this tomorrow. For now, though, you'll just hold him. It's a strange thing to say, but he's always been rather nice to hold, a big man to fill your entire hug, even if he does make your heartbeat spike.

"Goodnight." He says.

"Sweet dreams." You reply.

There's nothing else to think about but the feeling of him in your arms and the warmth of his body as your eyes draw closed.

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x gn reader #twisters x reader #twisters x gn reader #🌸 // success!#💞 // darlings #🤬 // swearshirt #🎟 // twisters #🎫 // tyler owens #🎫 // tyler

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fabricated-misslieness · 4 months ago

Text

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tyler owens x male reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: years ago, you broke up with him for his reckless lifestyle. now, when he's come back without changing a bit, you don't know why you let him back into your life.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: idk (tmr) long

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: angst, kissing, swearing, lot of made up family members + names, not proofread

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: cowboy slang vocabulary tmr, yes it's 11pm, yes I wrote this in a day, yes I'm in bed, yes Glen Powells is hot

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Tyler Owens likes to live what others might call a dangerous life, although he much preferred to call it a life of thrill.

He started it off as a bull rider for a rodeo, and though by the end of it he was regarded as the star bull rider and sometimes even the star of the show, there was a big learning curve that ended him with a couple (something closer to four dozen, really) kicks on the ol' noggin. Luckily, none of it sprouted within him either physical or mental problems by the time he decided he wanted to move on; his mother always said he had a thick skull, anyway.

After the less dangerous, still excruciating years in university, he came out with a meteorologist degree. And what did he do with it? He became a storm chaser.

A peculiar fact that came with it was that even after landing a more dangerous job, he sustained less injuries than bull riding by a substantial amount. Suppose the thing is that the moment he gets his first serious one, he's likely done for.

You've been through it all.

You met him before he even started this life, in high school; your first kiss was at his bedside after a particularly harsh fall and kick, you persisted through the busier university schedule, and you supported his dreams to be a storm chaser.

But at the height of it all, after the first scare when the anchor mechanism on that old truck of his failed to stop the car from turning onto its side, you decided you two were over.

It was definitely selfish. You didn't want to be close to him when, and you said when, he died. You decided it would be a lot less grief on your end, and you know what? He understood you.

For years, you've been grateful for him. As much as you've been his anchor, he's been yours...but he'd have made you a widower, even if you were married or not, and you just couldn't take that possibility.

If you're caught in the disastrous thunderstorm he'll leave behind, you're not sure you'll ever make it out.

You hope you'll never find out.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

"Get your ten commandments out of my soup!"

So why did you let him walk back into your life?

"I'm sorry! Hey, don't hit me with that ladle!"

You're not sure.

You point the utensil at him as threateningly as possible, although it's practically the same thing as pointing a spoon at him. "I don't need you for a taste-tester, Owens, you best take note of that."

"Yeah, yeah," Tyler's body is shaking with laughs, even as he lifts his hands up in surrender. "yes, sir."

You roll your eyes, bedrugingly turning your back to him to keep chopping vegetables. Tonight, you'll be sharing this soup with the whole community, and you're currently trying your damnedest to make it good. That means avoiding whatever seasoning boiled Tornado Wrangler digits will bring.

Tyler leans back to admire you, no he's not looking at your ass, work away. It feels oddly domestic, even if he's sitting down like a useless husband watching TV on his recliner.

That feeling of domesticity is piled on further when he hears the sound of innocent laughing outside.

"You sure that kid's not mine?" Tyler suggests for the second time, gesturing out the back door with his head.

"Haha." You laugh sarcastically, not even giving him the satisfaction of turning his way. "No, my sister just so happened to marry a blonde. Even if she was somehow ours, I would've never kept you from her."

Of course you wouldn't have. You're too good for that.

The kid outside is your niece, a twelve year old girl shipped out of bustling New York City to the backdoor of America for being "too addicted to her phone", as your sister says. Despite her self-proclaimed hatred for the outdoors, she's actually having a lot of fun with the ranch dogs, who indulge her when they're not working.

Even though he's in no way related to the kid, and even if you and him could biologically never create anything together, he swears she looks just like if the two of you had a love child, which makes his heart swell all the more when she sees her.

"If we could've had one," Tyler begins, standing up to begin a slow, silent walk towards you. "would you have rather they be a boy or a girl?"

"Don't ask me that." You say with a laugh, meaning you're refusing to answer only because you don't want to have prejudice.

"Okay, fine, then." He settles behind you, presses his chest to your back. "Huh."

"Huh, what, cowpoke?"

His hands are settled on the edge of the counter on either side of you, trapping you in. "I thought you'd flinch."

"I learned to expected the unexpected around you, Tyler Owens. Never a day went by that you didn't surprise me, so I decided I'd simply never be surprised."

Tyler sputters out a laugh. "Oh, hobble your lip!"

"It's true." You reply, offhandedly, fully concentrated on chopping some carrots, and Tyler hates that because you're not giving him attention.

So he opts to do something you'll obviously never expect and prove you wrong. He leans down to press his nose against your neck, and you think he's only going to kiss it, but instead...

Thbptttttt!

"Ew, Tyler, you did not!" It's a miracle you have the self-restraint to put the knife down, let alone only push him away and not slap him on the face. You clutch the spot where he just blew a raspberry and instantly regret it, recoiling away from the feel of his saliva like it's acid.

Tyler laughs. Despite your best efforts to push him away again as he approaches, he only dodges your hands and traps you against the counter again. His plan is accomplished, as he now has you facing him.

"You asshole." You snarl.

Tyler only smiles. "Yours, all the same."

He leans down to kiss right where he'd blown that raspberry, collecting most of his own spit on his lips and saving you the trouble of cleaning it himself.

Even when you wipe off the rest of the spit you'd previously touched on his sleeve, he laughs.

"What am I going to do with you?" You sigh, cupping his cheek and tilting his gaze towards yours.

He's a damn bastard, having the audacity to grin at you as if he's won some kind of victory. "Kiss me."

So he's a puppy, then. Licking you like it's a way of kissing and expecting a proper kiss back. "No, you don't deserve that."

He rolls his eyes, though his eyes find yours immediately after. "Yes I do. Kiss me."

You don't know why you let Tyler Owens walk back into your life like nothing happened. You don't know how you let him kiss your neck, or how you let him even ask to kiss you, or how you're even being friendly with him.

Scratch that, actually. You don't know why he kissed your neck, why he wants to kiss you, or why he's being friendly with you.

You walked out of his life, for God's sake. You walked out of his life because you feared dealing with the aftermath of his death.

He's a tornado. Tyler Owens, the tornado wrangling cowboy, is a tornado. He's a fire twister, even, the worst of the worst, a category F5. The damage he'll leave once he dies out won't be devastating, it'll be incredible.

That's what you're trying to avoid.

"What's wrong?" Tyler's smile has faded, his expression sobered up. Of course he can still tell when you're lost in your own thoughts.

"Nothing." You shake your head, wipe your nose to hide your sniffle and thus let go of his face. "Hey, how about you go check up on Sophie? My sister would kill me if she got hurt."

"Right, sure." He can sense something's wrong, but he withdraws anyway, respecting your decisions. He always does that, and you hate him for it, because he's so good.

You watch him head out the back door, and even as he closes it, you watch on.

He's too good for you.

When the distant sound of the boiling soul catches your ear, you inevitably tear your eyes away.

Right, let's make the best soup there ever was.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Tyler had unknowingly picked the right time to show up at your front step when he did.

"Aww, come on, you didn't have to make such a big fuss," Your great uncle speaks with those sloppy dentures of his, but even with the wet sound of his gums and lips, he sounds entirely endearing. "Tyler's back! This party should've been his."

Tyler's always been the life of the party ever since you brought him home for that first Thanksgiving (his "trial", so to speak), and that apparently hasn't changed.

"Oh, no, no, you're kiddin' grandpa!" Tyler only raises his glass from where he's leaning against the punch table. "It's your birthday! Hell, I didn't even bring a gift!"

"Your fine ass is all you needed to bring." Your famously single aunt grins and sends a wink, holding a glass full of wine she snuck in despite all the children around.

Tyler directs his own glass towards her to thank her, his smile never waning. "Oh shush, aunt Delilah."

As Tyler greets the family one by one, all of which clearly miss him, you're in the corner of the room pointing out each of them to your niece.

"Those are your cousins...I think. They're your mom's cousin's kids, and well...whatever, they're Jonas' kids. Becky, Jake, Bean–"

"Bean?"

"Sorry, his name's Nick, we just call him Bean 'cause one time as a toddler we found him sitting on a sack of raw beans, shovelling them into his mouth."

"That's crazy."

Even after you've named every face in the room and sent Sophie away with a pat on the head to mingle with her...cousins, Tyler's still talking to everyone.

Your heart burns like you've had some of uncle Dick's famous dripping fried chicken at the sight of it because nobody's ever like this when it's just you.

It's not even about the fact you're forgotten, it's a big family and you have your own close group of cousins in the middle of all of them, it's the fact that they missed him.

While you're distracted, your mom pulls you down to sit beside her on the couch, where your dad is telling another story of his. Many of your aunts and uncles and distant cousins are gathered around him, listening intently, but as you actually hear the contents of his speech, your attention fades away. It's one of those stories he always tells, about how the crop cycle was ruined until he had this eureka idea.

Distantly, you hear Tyler droning on about his whole tornado wrangling cowboy thing, explaining his latest feat like it's nothing but a regular Tuesday. He's got a lot more people gathered around him than your dad; not to discredit your dad, as he's doing his best trying to compete against Tyler in storytelling, but you know how that will end.

You kiss your mother on the cheek and stand up to find your more amicable cousins, only to be interrupted by your aunt Sissy, Delilah's sister.

"Hey, darling! How've you been?" She calls you over and immediately slings an arm around your neck, holding you close and rubbing your cheeks together in greeting.

"Good, good." You say immediately, an instinctual white lie as you wipe her transferred makeup off your cheek.

She doesn't even notice you're lying to her, maybe doesn't care enough to notice, before she's nodding her head at Tyler and his crowd. "I'm so happy you're back together with Tyler, he must have so many new stories to tell."

"Um, actually, auntie," You try to correct her, then bite your lip, pausing suddenly to think. It'd probably be a lot better if you let her believe you were back together, but you've already dug yourself into saying actually. "we're–"

"Hey, auntie Sissy!" Tyler suddenly appears beside you like he wasn't just across the room, leaning down to gracefully accept the cheek kisses in greeting. He somehow comes out of it without getting stained. "How have things been? The old cat still slinking around the neighbors' yards?"

The two of them exchange a few words before he's slinging an arm around your shoulder, "Can I borrow this one real quick? It'll just be a sec."

"Sure, sure!" Whether an insult to your presence or a compliment to his coercion tactics, she's more than happy to let the two of you go. "Don't let me hold up your fun."

You're grateful for him steering you away from the party and out onto the front porch, but you're also dreading being alone with him after the whole thing in the kitchen.

Tyler doesn't seem to feel the same way.

"Whew, I did not miss being around your family." He breaths out, leaning against the porch's railing.

The whole dread fades into confusion as he says that, and you lean against the spot beside him. "You didn't?"

"No...well," He shakes his head, "I missed hanging out with them. I did not miss having to tell them every single detail about where I've been since I've last seen them."

"I thought you liked telling them stories." You hummed, turning your gaze from the scenery ahead to him.

"Eh...I much prefer intimate crowds." He sends a wink. You flush and try to turn away, but he catches your cheek and stops you.

Tyler knows something is wrong, has known since you discreetly pushed him away earlier today in the kitchen. Looking into your eyes only further convinces him.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

His eyes narrow. His stupidly beautiful blue-green eyes narrow at you, and you know you can't lie anymore...but you can deflect.

"Did you know your eyes are blue and green?" You ask, lightly tapping his hand that sits on the railing.

"(Y/N)."

"Blue rim. Green...center? No, that's not the word, the inner? God, I don't know." You shake your head, and despite the movement, his hand doesn't leave your cheek.

"(Y/N)."

"They remind me of the classic scenery." You hold a pointer finger out. "Blue sky, green lawn, right? Or the Windows default wallpaper. Both are iconic."

His other hand leaves the railing and takes your other cheek. "Baby, look at me."

Baby. You used to hate it when he called you that, you weren't some baby, but now...now, how you've missed it.

You sigh, closing your eyes momentarily to collect yourself. No more deflecting and no more lies. You actually had to talk about your feelings now.

It had taken a lot of courage the first time, telling him: yes, I still love you, I'm just selfish and think that if you die, you'll take me down with you; no, I know you won't actually kill me, but you'll take my soul with you, and that's practically the same thing, isn't it?

"You don't have to tell me anything." Tyler speaks up before you do, beckoning your eyes open. "You just have to tell me to go away again, if that's what you want."

"No," You instinctively say.

"No," You say immediately.

No. No, how could you? You did once, and you're not sure how.

"Stay." You say, because you want it, you want him to stay.

"Okay." He says it easily, and his hands fall to his sides. He's willing to take that, just that, because...you don't know, maybe he still loves you. You're not willing to admit that.

You're not willing to accept that he still loves you after you told him you wanted to break up.

You take his hand before he can walk back into the party. "Why'd you come back?"

"I..." Tyler almost shrinks back, but you intertwine your fingers, and now you're the angler reeling him back in. "My car got flipped onto it's roof."

"Baby." You breathe out, pulling him in, pulling him closer to you, almost like he's not living flesh in front of you and you need to make sure he's breathing by feeling his chest heave against you.

"I was in the hospital for a little while...just some cuts." He assures first, to not worry you. He grabs both your hands, presses his nose to the knuckles, inhales the scent of their sweat like it's an apple pie, and it's weird but he needs it. "The glass broke, obviously, all of it, and some of my equipment, and, well, fuck, it was worse than a couple cuts."

"Ty."

"I'm okay, you see? Not scarred. I'm tough." He lets go of your hands momentarily to do a little twirl for you. He looks just the same as you left him.

"You almost died." You say anyway.

"Yeah." He doesn't deny it, he can't lie, because he can see through your lies as well as you can see through his. "I wanted to see you again, because...I wanted to see you in case the next time I got into an accident, I actually died. And you know what? I feel selfish for it."

"What? No." You shake your head, step closer. You're about to say more, but he starts first.

"You told me to stay away, but I came back into your life and I acted like nothing happened. You know, the life you're living? It's kind of what I wanted for us. A little ranch, some cows, some dogs, a farm. We get our own milk, our own eggs, grow our own food, and it's just the two of us..." His fingers climb up your arm like a little spider, and his gaze follows it absentmindedly. "Until we decide to adopt a little girl. You drive her to school, I drive her back home. We're happy, raising her. We teach her not to be like us, and she still turns out an exact replica of us, anyway. She's our princess."

"Sophie?"

"Sophie."

He sniffles. You tear your hand away from his only to cup both of his cheeks with your hands. "I'm so sorry, Tyler."

"No, I–"

"No, shut up." Despite the severity, you laugh, and he does too, until you're speaking again. "I shouldn't have left. I should've stayed right there with you. I'd have been right at your bedside, you know? I'd have kissed you like the first time. Remember what I said?"

He laughs again, "That my breath tastes like cow shit?"

"Yeah, that." You grin at him, and he loves to see you grin like that again. "I was selfish."

"I understood you completely, though. I thought I was saving you the grief." That's why he let you leave so easily, and you realize it now, looking into his eyes. "You were right. You always are."

"I'm not, Tyler. I was wrong." You shake your head, "I thought it worked. Weeks went by when I didn't think about you, because I fought the memories of you back. A year after, it settled in that I wouldn't be seeing you, so I thought I wouldn't even think about you anymore, but...the memory of you, your smile, your kisses, your warmth resurfaces every month, and god, I missed you. And missing you without the possibility of having you is just grieving you."

"And now I'm here." He leans a bit further away, and you see all of him. You see the way his blue-green eyes are glassed over, and you've no doubt yours are the same; you see the familiar way his hat is perched above his head and how he still wears the top two buttons of his shirt undone and how his smile is just the same.

"And now you're here." You nod.

He places his hands over your wrists, holds them, presses his nose against yours. "I missed you too."

"Mhm?" You hum. Your breaths mingle with his, pressed this close together.

"And I love you, too. Still do."

"Fuck." You laugh, a teary little thing, but it's real and genuine and not a figment of his imagination. "I love you too."

And then you kiss, and he's missed it so much, and you've missed it so much, the two of you. You're slotted together, like pieces of a puzzle. You're not you without him and he's not him without you.

When you part, you wipe a couple stray tears off his cheeks, and he does the same for you.

"Should we..." He chokes a little on his words, then shakes the nerves off. He has you back, and his smile returns. "head back?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we should." You find yourself leaning back in, anyway.

You share another kiss, maybe two. If he'd brought a friend or two along, he'd have signalled them to light the fireworks in his truck to add a little magic to it, even if it already feels like fireworks are going off between your lips.

When you've had enough of each other for the moment and finally head back in, your great uncle raises his spoon at you and laughs. "There you are! This soup is amazing, kid!"

Or at least that's what he would've said, had his dentures not gotten stuck in a hard carrot and splashed right back into his bowl.

The carrots which you added last, thanks to Tyler's distraction earlier today.

The tornado wrangler of a boyfriend you've regained is laughing his ass off beside you, while you cringe. So much for the perfect soup.

"Come on, (Y/N)." Tyler wraps an arm around you, pulling you close, and you're so happy he can do it casually again.

"Let's get us a bowl."

#🧺 // my yarn #icymi #icymi for the appropiate hour which is 12 pm

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fabricated-misslieness · 4 months ago

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tyler owens x male reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: years ago, you broke up with him for his reckless lifestyle. now, when he's come back without changing a bit, you don't know why you let him back into your life.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.65k

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: angst, death is mentioned and tyler gets close to it not explicitly, kissing, swearing, baby as a nickname for your lover, lot of made up family members + names

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: cowboy slang vocabulary, yes it's 11pm, yes I wrote this in a day, yes I'm in bed, yes Glen Powells is hot

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Tyler Owens likes to live what others might call a dangerous life, although he much preferred to call it a life of thrill.

After the less dangerous, still excruciating years in university, he came out with a meteorologist degree. And what did he do with it? He became a storm chaser.

You've been through it all.

But at the height of it all, after the first scare when the anchor mechanism on that old truck of his failed to stop the car from turning onto its side, you decided you two were over.

It was definitely selfish. You didn't want to be close to him when, and you said when, he died. You decided it would be a lot less grief on your end, and you know what? He understood you.

If you're caught in the disastrous thunderstorm he'll leave behind, you're not sure you'll ever make it out.

You hope you'll never find out.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

"Get your ten commandments out of my soup!"

So why did you let him walk back into your life?

"I'm sorry! Hey, don't hit me with that ladle!"

You're not sure.

"Yeah, yeah," Tyler's body is shaking with laughs, even as he lifts his hands up in surrender. "yes, sir."

You roll your eyes, bedrugingly turning your back to him to keep chopping vegetables. Tonight, you'll be sharing this soup with the whole family, and you're currently trying your damnedest to make it good. That means avoiding whatever seasoning boiled Tornado Wrangler digits will bring.

Tyler leans back to admire you, no he's not looking at your ass, work away. It feels oddly domestic, even if he's sitting down like a useless husband watching TV on his recliner.

That feeling of domesticity is piled on further when he hears the sound of innocent laughing outside.

"You sure that kid's not mine?" Tyler suggests for the second time, gesturing out the back door with his head.

Of course you wouldn't have. You're too good for that.

Even though he's in no way related to the kid, and even if you and him could never biologically create anything together, he swears she looks just like if the two of you had a love child, which makes his heart swell all the more when she sees her.

"If we could've had one," Tyler begins, standing up to begin a slow, silent walk towards you. "would you have rather they be a boy or a girl?"

"Don't ask me that." You say with a laugh, meaning you're refusing to answer only because you don't want to have prejudice.

"Okay, fine, then." He settles behind you, pressing his chest to your back. "Huh."