#Bear-rv | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

briefinquiries · 18 days

Text

Tyler Owens x Reader: Read Between the Lines

Request: anonymous said: "I was wondering maybeeee if you could write some protective bf Tyler ( because i would be swooning ) maybe either someone keeps hitting on her so he steps in or someone maybe in another storm chasing crew is being mean so he steps in and defends her <3 idk"

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: language, mild fighting i guess?? slight angst

A/N: sorry I haven't been posting as frequently! I started work up again and ya girl has been BUSY. Anyyywayyy, thank you for reading! please keep the comments coming! I love to see all your requests and I promise i'm getting to them as quickly as i can :)

“Need anything?” Tyler asked, leaning against the hood of the truck in a way that shouldn’t be as adorable as it is.

“I’m good,” you said, offering him a gentle smile before brushing a few loose strands of hair from your sticky forehead.

“You wanna come in with me then?”

You shook your head– the idea of sitting in a stale diner with no AC was just about as unbearable as the thought of driving another second. “No, I think I’ll stretch my legs out here.”

“Okay,” he said in a tone that indicated you’d be missing out. He gave the truck a pat before adding, “We won’t be long.”

“Take your time,” you assured him.

He offered one final nod before turning and following Dani, Boone, and Lily across the parking lot. Dexter also stayed behind. Instead of shitty diner food, he’s opted to take a nap inside the RV accompanied by his noise canceling headphones and a fan blasting right at his face.

You were exhausted, down to your bones. You and the rest of the team had driven nearly six hours that day tracking a cell that hadn’t ended up amounting to anything. You were stiff and tired and irritable– just like everyone else. But you hoped that some time alone outside might help at least level out your mood.

You extended your arms over your head, groaning when you felt something lightly pop in your back, before craning your neck from side to side. The air was stifling– thick and humid with little to no breeze for any sort of relief. The heat hadn’t broken in nearly a week, and unfortunately for just about everyone, the truck’s AC didn’t work as well as it used to.

The parking lot to the diner was relatively empty. Aside from the crew’s RV and truck, there was an SUV parked in one of the front spots and a small sports car with a steady cloud of smoke pouring out the cracked window.

You let your eyes wander past the diner parking lot at the sprawling field across the road. The windmills were agonizingly still in the stale air– like even they were desperate for some reprieve.

Your eyes fell shut as you took a few deep breaths, trying to get your bearings.

Your peace lasted for about thirty seconds. And then the sound of blaring music and screeching tires had you turning your pulsing head. Instantly, you rolled your eyes at the sight of the familiar vans pulling into the lot beside you.

Merrill Anderson and his crew started chasing in the area almost thirteen months ago. You knew because each and every moment that you’d known about their existence had been more painful than the last.

Anderson was a meteorologist out of Texas that wore a cowboy hat almost as big as his mouth and an inflated ego to match it. He made sure you and everyone else around him knew that he had a PhD, and therefore, in his opinion, was automatically more entitled to chase. Him and Tyler had hated each other from the moment they met while chasing an EF2 in Arkansas– their feud only grew each time their paths crossed.

Anderson was grinning at you through the window as soon as his van rolled by. You did your best to avert your gaze– hoping that lack of eye contact would avoid any sort of conversation.

Unfortunately, you weren’t so lucky.

“There she is,” he announced, boots scuffing against the dirt parking lot as he hopped out from the driver’s seat.

“Now what're you doin’ out here all by yourself? Your team finally leave you behind? Realized they didn’t need two uni drop outs on their team?” he asked, tone already dripping in sarcasm.

He was an antagonizer who got off on provoking others. And although you and Anderson had your fair share of unpleasant exchanges, you knew he only ever bothered you to get under Tyler’s skin.

Tyler’s biggest weakness was that he was endlessly protective of the people he loved. You saw this particular trait as a strength– but you knew that Anderson fed off Tyler's anger, which you could only imagine was his intention now. Thankfully Tyler was in the diner– hopefully gorging on raspberry pancakes as you spoke. Because if he were to see Anderson talking to you– you knew this whole interaction would escalate quickly.

“Anderson,” you sighed, leaning casually against the hood of Tyler’s truck. The smile you forced on your face was almost painful. “So lovely to see you, as always.”

You hoped if you withheld from his taunting, he might move on quicker.

Instead, to your despair, he backtracked from his van to stand across from you. “You guys go ahead,” he instructed his crew. “I’m gonna spend some time with my friend here.”

They nodded before heading towards the diner, leaving the two of you alone.

“You should teach that hillbilly- boyfriend of yours some manners. If I remember correctly, last time I saw him, he drove through a puddle to splash me.”

You bit back a grin as you recalled the moment he was referring to. “I’m sure it wasn’t on purpose,” you lied (it was absolutely on purpose).

Anderson chuckled. “You know– I don’t know if we’ve ever had a conversation just us, without him lingering around. You’re much more pleasant. Both in conversation and in looks.”

You felt a chill run down the length of your spine at his words– but the way he was looking at you was infinitely worse. You watched as his eyes flickered from your face to your chest– currently more exposed than you would like in the tanktop you wore in the stifling Oklahoma heat. You wished you had grabbed a shirt to cover up in– but they were all either dirty and packed away somewhere in your duffel.

Clearing your throat, you stood up straight and crossed your arms, attempting to shield yourself from his lingering gaze.

“Oh, hey now darlin’, don’t cover up. I’ve been stuck in the van all day with these jokers, this is the most action I’ve gotten all summer.”

You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you tried desperately to remain level headed. Anderson was a jerk– and he’d definitely make you uncomfortable… but you couldn’t imagine that he’d ever actually do anything to harm you.

Then again, you’d never interacted with him for longer than a minute or two with Tyler and the rest of the crew at your side. This was uncharted territory that you didn’t care to explore. You felt your earlier determination to handle him on your own fade away with uneasiness.

You turned your head towards the diner, hoping you might catch Tyler’s gaze through the window or something. Of course you were too far away for that– all you caught was the glare from the sun.

“You know I’m not used to seeing you in clothes like this, usually you’re all covered up,” Anderson whistled.

As soon as he took a step closer, you instinctively moved too. Except your legs collided with Tyler’s truck– preventing you from actually going anywhere. For some dumb reason, you felt obligated to hold your ground– to not let him see how uncomfortable he was really making you. But with each passing comment, you grew more and more fearful.

Anderson now had his body angled towards you with a look that could only be described as predatorial. “God, it’s true you don’t know what you’re missin’ til you see it. We should have these heat waves more often if it means I get to take a look at this every day.”

You tried and failed to remain stoic. You wanted to yell– to tell him to shut the fuck up. But for some reason, your body and brain weren’t connecting.

“C’mon, where is she?” he taunted. “You know, your sweet side has its perks. But I much prefer ‘em a little spicy.”

He took another few steps closer to you. It was subtle, but you noticed. Anderson was so obviously getting a kick out of whatever the hell he was doing here, and you were doing a piss-poor job at withholding from it, like you’d originally planned.

“Why don’t you come on back in my van with me,” he winked. “I’m not sure how your hillbilly does it, but I can show ya a real good time.”

Get away from me, you wanted to scream. But your mouth wouldn’t move– your voice was lost somewhere inside of you. And all you could get your body to do was lean away from him slightly.

“Don’t be like that, darlin’,” he cooed. He was so close that you could almost smell his breath. Your brain told you to fight– to shove or kick or do something to get him away from you. But all those previous instincts you had to fight back faded into paralyzing fear.

Anderson reached across the space between you to move a loose strand of hair from your face as you began to tremble. “And don’t be afraid, baby doll. I don’t bite… too hard. Owens ain’t gotta know–”

“Anderson!”

Your head snapped at the sound of a familiar voice… Not just any familiar voice– Tyler’s voice. He was currently storming across the parking lot with a look of pure hatred across his face. The second his eyes landed on you– undoubtedly and obviously terrified, that anger only intensified.

“Get the fuck away from her,” he demanded. His eyes were narrowed and shockingly darker than their normal shade of sage.

“Here he is!” Anderson taunted. “Her douche bag in shining armor.”

You couldn’t help but notice Anderson didn’t step away. In fact, if anything, he looked like he was about to step closer, just to really test his limits. But then, to your relief, you saw Boone, Dani, and Lily storming out of the diner in Tyler’s wake– all coming to your rescue.

In an instant, Tyler was there, stepping between you and Anderson– forming the protective barrier you needed to finally feel safe again. Without thinking, you fisted the back of Tyler’s T-shirt for good measure.

“Easy, Rambo,” Anderson sneered. “I was just tellin’ your sweetheart here how much I enjoy her new look. Who knew she had all this hidin’ under those baggy shirts? That the reason you keep her hangin’ around, Owens? I knew she had to be good for something–”

But Anderson didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Because before you knew what was happening, Tyler was lunging forward and connecting his fist with Anderson’s nose.

The crack as it broke was deafening, you released Tyler’s shirt to cover your mouth in shock. Tyler hit him with enough force that he went staggering back a few steps, his hands instantly moving to cup his face.

Tyler was still shaking off his hand when Anderson stood up straight, blood pouring out of both nostrils.

“Damn, that bitch must be as good as she looks if she’s worth all this,” Anderson continued to taunt. Even with a broken nose, he didn’t back down.

Without even hesitating, Tyler moved to strike again. But as soon as he did, Boone and Dani were both stepping in front of him to break things up.

“Easy, T–” Boone said.

“Stay the fuck away from her,” Tyler snarled in warning, pointing his finger over Boone’s shoulder. You’d never quite heard his voice so malicious or threatening before, and even though it was in your defense, it sent shivers down your spine.

Suddenly, Lily grabbed your hand from the side, causing you to flinch. “It’s okay,” she said, tugging you a few steps away from the chaos– like she knew how badly you needed space from everything. “You alright?”

You nodded, flustered.

“Next time you want to settle this without your little army of strays, you let me know, Owens. And next time you want a good time, Y/N, you know where to find me,” Anderson said, offering you a wink that churned your stomach. With that, he wiped some blood from his nose and began sauntering back towards his van.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Tyler snarled, still being physically held back by Dani and Boone.

“Yeah, and he’d deserve it. But he’s not worth catchin’ a charge,” Boone said. “It’s been a slow season and we don’t got the kind of money to bail you out of jail.”

“Take a breath, T,” Dani said. “He’s walkin’ away. Take a breath.”

You watched Tyler slowly come back to his body. He listened to Dani and took a deep breath– his shoulders visibly relaxing when he exhaled. It seemed to be enough for his friends to finally release him.

As soon as he was free from their grasp, Tyler turned around– his attention landing on you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his previously menacing voice now laced with so much care and concern. He stood in front of you– his body blocking all views of Anderson and their vans. His hands moved to cup your cheeks gently.

“I’m fine,” you said, attempting to convince yourself more than anyone else. But even you knew it didn’t sound convincing. Your voice subtly cracked on the final word.

Tyler stroked his thumb along your skin. The look on his face told you he didn’t quite believe you as his eyes flickered down to your trembling hands. Thankfully he didn’t ask more.

“I gotta say that was a nasty right hook, T,” Boone said, clapping Tyler on the back as he approached. “I didn’t know you had it in ya.”

“What’d that asshat say to you?” Lily asked. “You looked really shaken up when we saw you out the diner window.”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, too embarrassed to repeat his taunts. You were shocked by how self-conscious you suddenly felt with everyone’s eyes on you. Anderson’s previous words had made you incredibly aware of every inch of yourself– like there was an electrical current humming underneath the surface of your skin.

“Just the usual shit,” you tried to brush it off.

You felt grateful when they didn’t push.

Eventually, the crew disassembled– everyone focused on getting their stuff together to hit the road again. Anderson didn’t reemerge from his van, but as you sat idly in the passenger seat of Tyler’s truck, you didn’t take your eyes off from where it was parked– like you were anticipating some sort of retaliation.

You remained hidden from the team– feeling so awkward and uncomfortable– like you didn’t want to be perceived or noticed by anyone. And you hated that Anderson’s words were the ones to make you feel that way. You couldn’t find any shirts in your duffel bag that weren’t disgusting. And currently you didn’t have the time or patience to dig through your second bag in the RV. So instead, you wrapped your arms awkwardly over your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible just as Tyler climbed into the front seat.

“Everyone else is riding in the RV, it’s just us,” he said, eyes lingering on you.

“Okay,” you said, trying your best to sound casual. You wondered if he ordered everyone in the RV so that you’d feel more comfortable. You made a mental note to thank him for that later, he was always so good at reading between the lines.

Tyler instantly noticed your uneasiness. “Baby, what’d he say to you?”

You shrugged, refusing to meet his gaze out of sheer embarrassment. “I mean, I think you caught the gist of it at the end there… Just a lot of that.”

You heard his loud exhale. “Just say the word and I’ll barge into that stupid van and kill him right now.”

The corner of your lip tugged into a small smile. “I just want you to stay here,” you admitted.

He nodded solemnly. Without another word, Tyler passed you something he had scrunched up in his fist. It was one of his T-shirts– like he knew you wanted to cover up without even having to say it. You took the shirt– the thanks you wanted to offer him remained stuck in your throat, but Tyler didn’t seem to mind.

Instead, he pretended to fiddle with the radio while you silently slipped the shirt on. Almost instantly, you felt like you could relax underneath the fabric of his clothes.

You curled your arms around yourself and tucked your knees to your chest. When Tyler asked if you were ready to head out, you nodded without another word.

…

It was only seven when you arrived at the motel. Tyler went into the lobby to book the rooms while everyone else hung back. Boone and Lily were going on and on about using the pool later that night, but once you’d grabbed your bags from the truck, you sort of tuned it all out.

Tyler found you sitting on the curb once he’d passed out everyone else’s room keys. He picked up your duffel from the ground before speaking for the first time in almost an hour.

“You ready for bed?”

You nodded, offering him your best attempt at a convincing smile.

“C’mon,” he motioned his head to the left. “We’re upstairs.”

Tyler led the way to your room– and even though this was a dingy motel, you’d never seen anything more perfect. The shades were dark, the AC worked, and there was a single, plush-looking queen bed in the middle of the room just screaming your name.

Tyler let you shower first. And when you emerged from the bathroom, all the sweat and grime finally washed from your skin, he was gone. But in his place, he’d laid out one of his T-shirts and a pair of his boxers on the bed for you to use. You almost teared up at the sight of just how thoughtful he was… Still reading between the lines.

You’d spent the entire duration of your shower trying to convince yourself that what had happened earlier wasn’t that big of a deal. Anderson was a jerk– of course he was going to say some jerk-ish things. It shouldn’t have been a surprise– and yet, you couldn’t shake the discomfort you felt. It was like all the words he’d said to you had nestled underneath your skin and made a home for themselves.

In an attempt to shake the thoughts away, you quickly shrugged on Tyler’s clothes before sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapping your arms around yourself.

Almost as soon as you sat down, you heard the front door to the motel open up. Tyler stepped into the room carrying his own bag and a couple of water bottles he must’ve grabbed for the two of you.

“Better?” he asked, handing you one.

You nodded and cracked it open. “Much.”

Tyler sighed before joining you on the edge of the bed. “Baby, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I-” you started and then stopped. Your hands were shaking, but you jumped when you felt Tyler’s hand close around yours, steadying them. His touch gave you just an ounce of courage to speak.

“It wasn’t even anything that bad–” you admitted. “I meant it earlier, you heard the worst of it… I just, I don't know, I can't explain it. But everything he said made me feel so gross… and dirty, and…” And, well, you didn’t quite know what else. Words were hard to come by tonight.

“Oh, baby,” Tyler exhaled. He released your hand to wind his arm around your shoulders, tugging you to his chest instead.

It wasn’t until he shushed you that you even realized you were crying, but it came out in a rush. You clung to him, instantly impressed by his ability to just make you feel so much safer.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he assured you, only squeezing tighter.

“I don’t know why this bothered me so much–”

“Because Anderson is an asshole and he intentionally said some gross shit to shake you up,” he answered for you. “You’re allowed to be upset by that.”

You exhaled against his shirt, and when you licked your lips, you tasted salt.

“I’m the sorry one,” he said.

“What?” you shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry–”

“I should have been there.”

“You were there,” you reminded him. “Unless I blacked out or something and I was really the one who punched him in the nose…”

Tyler chuckled softly, you felt the vibration against your chest– instantly soothing you.

You sighed after a moment, trying to decide if you wanted to share what was really bothering you. You bit the inside of your cheek. It was so tempting to keep it to yourself, but more tempting than that was the idea of finally feeling a little more at ease again after just telling Tyler the truth.

“I just–” you paused again. “I–”

“Hey,” he said. You looked up at him briefly. “It’s just me.”

That was the problem– it was Tyler. And you didn’t want Tyler thinking less of you because of what had happened.

“I didn’t fight back,” you said quietly. “I just froze up– it was like I couldn’t even think straight. And he kept going and going, and I just stood there– taking it.”

Tyler ran his hand up and down your arm reassuringly. “What are you talking about?”

“It just felt like…” your voice tapered off.

Tyler waited a moment before asking gently, “Like what?”

“It just felt like I didn’t do anything to stop it,” you whispered so quietly you weren’t even sure he’d heard you. “Like I let it happen.”

“Baby,” Tyler sighed. “Baby, no. Anderson is such a jackass, it wouldn’t have mattered what you said–”

“But I could have told him to get the fuck away from me–”

“You were just trying to keep yourself safe. Baby, we can’t control how we react when we’re scared. It’s fight or flight–”

“Or freeze,” you mumbled, embarrassed.

“Or freeze. I’m pretty sure fawning is one too, now,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter– what matters is you can’t control that you froze. Just like–”

“Just like you couldn’t control punching him in the face?” you asked.

You glanced up just in time to see Tyler’s lips tug into a smile. “Exactly,” he said.

“I just wish my fear reaction was a little more effective,” you pouted. “Freezing didn’t do much.”

You let your eyes fall shut when Tyler tugged you closed to his chest. “I guess it’s a good thing you have a douchebag in shining armor to come help whenever you need it,” he smirked.

“Thanks for protecting me,” you said quietly.

“I’ll always protect you, you know that,” he said, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.

You smiled against his chest. You really did know that. “And thanks for punching him in the nose.”

Tyler snorted. “Anderson’s had that coming for a long time.”

#twisters #twisters imagine #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens fic #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x reader imagine #tyler owens x reader fic #twisters x reader fic #twisters fic

1K notes · View notes

sassygrrl32 · 2 years

Text

Bears at Oswald's Bear Ranch in Michigan~Rachel Holbert Jones

Bears at Oswald’s Bear Ranch in Michigan~Rachel Holbert Jones

View On WordPress

0 notes

vivwritesfics · 2 days

Text

Life In The Fast Lane

She's an F1 driver stranded in Oklahoma. He's a cowboy storm chaser. What more can I say?

Warnings: Talks of food and restrictive diet

Where are you?

She looked around. God, she hadn't been here in years, not since she moved to Europe with her aunt. The gas station had always been there, but she hardly remembered it. Still, she pulled in to get her bearings, to work out where she was going.

The gas station wasn't anything to write home about. It needed renovating, rust and rubbish everywhere. The people milling about were on their phones, not paying her any attention. That was weird, the people not knowing who she was. She was a big deal, after all.

Her car was low key for this trip, inconspicuous. It was the car she'd gotten at seventeen, that she'd had brought over from Europe once her career took off and she was able to visit home more.

"Somewhere in Oklahoma," she said into the phone as she looked around for some sort of indicator of where exactly in Oklahoma she was. Her GPS wasn't working, broken in both her car and phone. She was utterly lost.

'You're supposed to be here for media day!

She knew that, knew she was supposed to be in Texas at that minute. The idea to drive from her parents place in Enid to the track it Texas had seemed like a good idea at the time. But now she was lost, incredibly lost.

"I'll be there before the first practice," she muttered. "Just cover me for today."

She put the phone down as the loud, obnoxious music started. She whipped her head around and watched as the red truck pulled into the gas station. There was a guy cheering as he hung out of the window of the truck.

People flocked to the track, the camper, and the RV behind it. They parked up, turned up the radio, and climbed out to meet their public.

The driver of the red truck climbed out. On his head was a white cowboy hat, a pair of sunglasses covering his face. He took a sharpie from somebody's hands and started signing everything in sight. Shirts, hats, anything he could get his hands on.

He made his way through the crowd, giving out pictures and signing anything until he got her her. "Hey there, darlin'," he said with a charming grin.

Before she could say anything, he took her hat from her head and decorated it with his signature.

"What the fuck?" She snatched her hat back from him. His scrawl was now across the brim, name unintelligible to her eye. "Why the fuck would you do that?"

He still wore that stupid, charming grin as he pulled sunglasses away from his eyes. They were pretty, a fact she would later come to realise. For now, she was pissed. "You're telling me you're not a fan?"

Her face was hot as she stared up at him. "Who do you think you are?" She asked, voice low. It wasn't a question, not really. A challenge, one he would have been stupid to take.

Stupid or clueless.

But he didn't take the challenge. The man from beside him did. "You're sayin' you haven't heard of Tyler Owens?" He asked and laughed, shaking his head as he walked away.

They were having too much fun, whoever they were. Placing her hat back on her head, she muttered obscenities as she made her way back back to the car. Even if she knew where she was going, there was no way to navigate around all of the vehicles now filling the gas station. She supposed she had Tyler Owens to thank for that.

Her head hit the horn and she didn't stop the noise. Eyes were on her. Maybe some of them recognised her. Who was she kidding, everybody was here for Tyler Owens.

He watched her, too. Still signing shirts and pictures, but he glanced back at her every so often. The only other people he'd met in this sort of setting that hadn't desperately wanted his signature was Storm Par. And Storm Par certainly hadn't reacted like that.

There was a full minute where the only sound in the gas station was her horn, her head firmly planted in the middle of the steering wheel. Her hat, the one that now held his signature, was gone, tossed into the back somewhere.

Fuck, he almost felt sorry for her.

She lifted her head and the noise stopped. Throwing it back, she closed her eyes. She was saying something, but the car around her kept the noise in.

Signing just a few more pictures, Tyler approached. His boots crunched the gravel beneath his feet and his sunglasses hid any emotion that could have been read on his race. He still wore that grin, the one that made him seem like a cocky asshole. It always would, until he took the glasses off.

His knuckles tapped lightly on her window.

She glared at him as she pressed the button to lower the window. "What do you want?" She asked, expression set.

It was kind of terrifying, but Tyler didn't falter. "Are you okay?" He asked, leaning against the door.

She raised her eyebrows at him and turned to face forward. No, she wouldn't entertain this. He was a dick, and he wasn't trying to hide it.

"I can't help you unless you tell me what's wrong."

Good, she didn't want his help. His whole reason for helping was to boost his own ego, she figured. She'd met his kind before, usually had it out with them in some of the fastest vehicles in world.

Grabbing her cap, she placed it on her head. She couldn't ro up the window, not with the way he was holding it. "I know this area pretty well," he began, leaning forward so that the brim of his obnoxiously large hat was in the car with her. "If you're lost, which, I think you are, I might be able to help."

Taking him up on his offer of help. It would have meant swallowing her pride and accepting the fact that she couldn't do it on her own. "No, thank you." She forced and smile and then looked down at her phone.

It was late. The sky was already beginning to turn orange and there was no way she was going to reach her destination before the darkness set in. "I'm just gonna find a motel and hunker down for the night."

She started the engine. "Oh, the nearest motel is-" But she was already winding up her window, not giving him a chance to finish his sentence before she sped off, driving around those in her way with incredible skill.

A name had been on her hat, Tyler had been looking at it the whole time that they had been talking. It might not have been her name, but there was only one way to find out.

It took her a little while to find a motel. When she pulled into the parking lot, the red truck and its accompanying vehicles were already there. There he sat, tinkering with the pile of crap on the top of his truck. His eyes followed her car as she pulled into a parking spot, as far away as she could get from him, grabbed her bags from the back, and marched towards the motel reception.

He kept watching as she paid for the night, grabbed the key, and marched out of the reception. "See you finally found it," Tyler asked as he grabbed his beer. "Took you long enought, for an F1 driver." He said the last bit so quietly, but she still heard it.

Stopping in her tracks, she turned back towards him. "What the hell did you just say to me?"

He nodded towards her hat. "I googled you," he replied. "You're a racer, right?"

A huff left her lips and she folded her arms over her chest. "You googled me?"

He gave a quick nod and sipped his beer. "You should try googlin' me back at some point."

The laugh that left her lips was melodic, had a light dusting of pink on Tyler's cheeks. "You actually want me to Google you?" She asked and he gave a quick nod. But then the smile dropped from her face all together "You're fucking creepy," she said and walked away.

His face was entirely red at that. She turned on her heel and walked away, making her way to her own room.

The rest of Tyler's group of Storm chasers laughed as they looked at him. Face completely red, eyes following her movements until she locked herself in her motel room. "Tyler has a crush!" Boone sang. His laugh was infectious, had everybody else laughing with him.

"Shut up, Boone," Tyler mumbled, but he couldn't hide his own smile. She was a tough nut to crack, but he was going to be the one to do it.

***ED TRIGGER WARNING FROM HERE TO THE END***

"Tyler Owens," she mumbled as she typed his name into the search bar of her laptop. Emails popped up on the bottom right hand corner of her screen, but she ignored it. She knew she was supposed to be in Texas, knew she was so close to missing the first practice session. It was fine. If she set off as soon as the sun rose, she would be fine.

She pressed search and waited for the results to appear. The motel WiFi was shitty, forcing her to wait an age before the results appeared.

There was his face. He was handsome, but she hated it. His face just invited her fist. That was it: He had a handsome, punchable face. She scrolled down until she got to a link to his YouTube Channel. "What the hell is a Tornado Rangler?" She mumbled and clicked on the video.

It was a live stream, edited down to a more consumable format. His voice was loud and clear through her speakers, had her scrambling to turn down the volume on her laptop.

It was actually kind of incredible. She watched as he drove into a tornado, anchored himself down and shot fireworks inside of it. It was stupid and dangerous, but wasn't everything she did stupid and dangerous?

She hated that she was impressed.

As soon as the knock came at her door, she slammed down the lid of her laptop and scrambled off of the bed. Her feet were half in her shoes as she made her way to the door and looked through the peep hole.

The groan that left her lips was audible, loud enough for him to hear through the door. But he didn't back away like she hoped. Reluctantly, she pulled open the door. "What do you want, Owens?"

He had expected her to be cold, indifferent towards him. But she just sounded so tired, so defeated. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Tyler opened the box in his hands.

A pizza box. She hadn't even seen it when she opened the door. It smelled like shit. Not literal shit, no, it smelt good. But it smelt like food she shouldn't be eaten on a race weekend.

"I brought a peace offering," he said, waving it around slightly. God, it was mouthwatering. That cheese looked like that stringy stuff that made the slice never ending.

She swallowed, which was the wrong move. The smell was inside of her, begging her to grab a slice and just taste it. 'C'mon', the voice in the back of her head said. 'Just a bite. You won't make it to Cota for the race, anyway'.

She shook her head, as if that would banish the voice, and blinked. "You know I can't eat this stuff, right?"

Tyler looked at the pizza, and back at her. She didn't just sound tired and defeated, she looked it, too. But he let that charming, handsome, punchable grin cross his face. "C'mon, you don't have to have all of it. We can share."

"Generous." She rolled her eyes.

But he just looked so... not pathetic. That wasn't the word she was looking for. But he looked like a kicked puppy who just wanted her comfort.

With another groan, she stepped to the side and let him in.

My darlings, do we have another series on our hands?

279 notes · View notes

crappymixtape · 7 months

Text

because of you • part three

PART I • PART II • PART IV • PART V • EPILOGUE // REQ -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 3.1k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

B E C A U S E O F Y O U • P A R T T H R E E 🎶 thick skull ( re: julien baker ), paramore ft. julien baker

❝ GOOD GIRLS DON’T CRY & GOOD GIRLS DON’T LIE & GOOD GIRLS JUSTIFY BUT I DON’T ❞

“Think she’s okay?”

“Shh!”

“What? No way she can hear us back here.”

“Dustin, ‘back here’ is literally a seat behind her.”

Sat quietly at a table seat in the Winnebago, Eddie looking on worriedly across from you, you were still grappling with the fact that you were alive. That you didn’t die. That you were breathing fresh air and free from the dark and free from Him.

For now.

And as the RV bumped down the road out of Hawkins you said nothing. Felt Steve’s eyes on you constantly as he glanced at you in the rearview. Eddie’s hand still holding tight to yours after he helped you up, afraid to lose you again. Dustin and Lucas and Max all talking in not-so-hushed voices behind you about what it all meant and if El could get back in time and was this all gonna be enough?

Voice thick and choked by the sobs that had felt endless, you’d managed to tell everyone what Vecna had showed you. Told them about Hawkins, about the monsters, about your family, about them. Eddie, Robin, Nancy Steve. And no one had said anything at first. The sounds of your cries filling up the RV. Stark against the silence and heavy with the weight of your words and they knew before you’d even opened your mouth that it was going to be bad.

Of course they knew.

But now that Vecna had revealed his master plan, the efforts you were all making just felt hopeless. The munitions stuffed under the bench seats and closets and cabinets, all puny and worthless against Vecna and his army of nightmares.

A big bump in the road brought you out of your thoughts and when you glanced up your eyes met Steve’s as he snuck another look in the rear view. And instead of glaring, instead of flipping him the bird, you looked right back. Held his gaze for moment longer and he didn’t shy away until he came up on a turn-off.

“Alright, shitheads. We’re here.”

“Here?” Lucas asked, more than confused at the thick forest Steve was now driving you all through.

“Yeah, this is it.”

And as the trees slowly thinned out, thick grass and wildflower blooms took their place. Creeping out ahead of you to reveal a meadow, wide and green and lush. A haven that felt so very far away, felt safe, and as Steve parked and the engine quieted you let out the breath you’d been holding.

❝ MAYBE IF YOU JUST GOT SOME GUTS WE’D KILL ‘EM WITH A THOUSAND CUTS AND SAY WE DID IT OUT OF LOVE ❞

Everyone piled out of the RV and got after their tasks. Pretended like preparing for the end of the world was totally normal and routine. Nancy and Robin sawing off the end of a shotgun. Lucas and Erica attempting to make spears from tactical knives and broom handles. Eddie and Dustin shoving each other around in the grass with their garbage can lids full of nails at their feet and none of it instilled you with confidence, but Dustin screaming No wedgies! did manage to pull a little smile out of you.

And for a split second it felt okay.

Laughter, the sound of birds, the feeling of the wind on your bare skin and all the green around you – so unlike the cracked and bitter feeling in the Upside Down and then your smile fell.

You wished He hadn’t shown you.

Wished Vecna had just left you alone. Wished for just a moment that you hadn’t gone to Max’s trailer and put yourself in the middle of all this, but then Eddie grabbed Dustin in a big bear hug and your chest squeezed.

Your best friend.

The reason why you had gone to Max’s trailer.

The reason why you weren’t going to run.

The reason this was all worth it.

“Ah, shit.”

Sat next to you, Steve sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. The funnel in your hands slipping as you lost focus and liquid trickled down your hands and wrists.

“Hold it still,” Steve quickly tipped back his can of kerosene and set it down to grab a piece of ripped towel.

A string of curses were muttered under your breath, so much for homemade molotov cocktails.

Cheeks burning with embarrassment you went to wipe your hands on your sweater, but when you looked back up at Steve he was looking too. Eyes searching yours, unsure and tentative. Moles dotting along his cheeks and jaw like tiny constellations. Skin gold like it held summer and when you blinked away the haze of him, you realized he was reaching out to you.

“Here, get that off so it doesn’t burn,” he said a little softer. Cloth in one hand, he took yours in the other and wiped at the kerosene.

Oh, fell from your lips. Surprised. Unsure. Your skin buzzing where he touched you and you swallowed thick as you felt your pulse flutter against your neck.

“Uh–here, you can get the rest,” Steve said quickly, like he’d felt it too and hastily passed the cloth off to you, dropping your hand to wipe his on his jeans.

“Thanks,” you mumbled back.

It was quiet for a moment as he cleared his throat and picked up his can of kerosene again. You followed suit and grabbed your empty vodka bottle and funnel. Wordlessly he leaned over to hold your hand in his and once it was steady began pouring again, eyes flicking over to look at you.

“I’m an asshole,” he suddenly admitted, breaking the silence, and you had to focus really hard to not fumble the bottle again.

“I didn’t say it,” you started and he chuckled under his breath. A low, warm thing that made the air around you fizzle and crack like bonfires down at the quarry.

“Didn’t say you did,” he gently pushed back, lips still tugged up into a small, wry smile, but it faded the longer he looked at you. “Listen. I know we aren’t…well, I know I don’t have a great track record,” he said and the change in his tone surprised you. Told you he was serious and you had to look away to try to gather yourself back up again.

"No, really?" you said, all sarcasm, and he huffed another laugh.

“Hah hah,” he joked, weakly at first, and then his expression shifted more serious. “I just wanted to say that…well, that you have every right to be here it’s just–” the boy hummed around his words. Dropped his gaze down to where your hands met on the kerosene filled vodka bottle and put the can on the ground.

Talking to you like this, showing weakness and vulnerability, made him feel so exposed. Uncomfortable. Unable to find the right words and his tongue jammed into his cheek as he tried to decide just how honest he wanted to be.

With you.

“It’s just–everything about the Upside Down wants to kill you and it’s like–” he sighed heavy and carded a hand through his already messy hair. “I dunno. How many more people have to die? You know?” and then he was looking at you again. Really looking, really asking, and for a second it made you doubt everything you felt about him.

Jock. Asshole. King Steve.

No second chances, remember?

“Can I ask you something?” you heard yourself say and you could feel the muddled mixture of nerves and frustration and anticipation buzzing under your skin. Everything you’d been holding onto all this time pent up and pushing against the wall you’d built around it. Waiting waiting waiting for you to set it loose.

“Oh–sure, yeah.”

“Why are you really here?”

Steve’s eyes grew wide and he sat back on his milk crate, hands squeezing at the tops of his thighs.

“Why am I here?”

“Yeah. Do you really care about Eddie?”

Steve’s eyes darted back over to where Eddie and Dustin were hammering more nails into their garbage can lids and maybe you were impatient or maybe Steve was stalling, but you didn’t want to wait.

“Cos you didn’t care about him before.”

“B-before? I don’t–what d'you mean–”

Steve was stumbling over himself now, struggling to own the words you put on him and frustration grew warm in your chest, but you tried hard to swallow it down. Tried hard to let him prove Eddie’s theory of change.

“High school, Harrington,” you started, trying to keep your tone even and calm. “Yelled at us in the quad? Tossed people’s books in the hallway? Threw fries at us in the cafeteria.” You paused, debated whether or not you wanted to tack more on, and then you thought of Tommy and it came out all on its own, “Let your friends say really shitty things to me.”

Steve’s gaze dropped down to his feet and he didn’t say anything at first, not a word, and you kicked yourself for even bothering to think he’d be able to handle it. Of course he couldn’t.

“You know what–nevermind,” you mumbled, capping your bottle and moving to stand, but his hand grabbed yours and pulled you back down onto your milk crate.

“Wait. Please?”

And the way he was looking at you was pained, the pinch between his brows deep, and it made you pause. Was Eddie right? The way Steve cared for these kids, for your best friend, showed clearly something had shifted in him, but was it enough?

“Wait for what, Harrington? So you can show me things are different now?” your voice was softer, but hurt, “Because Eddie swears you’ve changed, but you still sound just like Tommy.”

The mention of his ex-best friend felt like getting the wind knocked out of him. He knew Tommy was wrong now. Hell, he knew it back then too. Knew how fucked up it'd been in the parking lot at the school, but he hadn’t had the guts to say anything. Couldn’t stand up to him or tell him off because he ‘had a reputation to uphold’ and what would everyone else say if he went ‘soft on a freak’?

“I–I know. I fucked up. I get it and I don’t know how I can prove it to you, but–” he started truthfully, hand still holding yours, thumb shifting softly against your palm, “–but I am. Really sorry.”

Really sorry.

Finally. After all those years. After everything he’d said and done, but sorry didn’t fix it. Or take any of it back. Was it too late?

Reluctantly you pulled your hand away from Steve’s, his fingers flexing as they fell away from yours, wanting to hold on just a little bit longer but you weren’t ready.

“You know that doesn’t fix it, right?” you said quietly, glancing up at Steve through the long sweep of your lashes and guilt settled heavy over him.

He knew it didn’t fix it. Knew all too well that words didn’t mean shit, but he would be the first to admit he was a slow learner. Crawl before you walk. Hit your head and maybe something will suddenly make sense and when it came to you? Vecna had been like a sucker punch.

You were strong-willed. Didn’t take shit lying down. Were fiercely loyal to your best friend and just wanted to try to help and it had taken Steve a minute to realize – in your eyes he was still bullshit, but he didn’t want to be. It wasn’t going to be easy, not in the least, but just like you he wanted to try.

“I know it doesn’t fix it.”

His eyes squeezed shut so he didn’t have to look at you. Tried to make it easier on himself as he pushed through the discomfort of taking responsibility for his actions. Tongue running along his bottom lip, just like it always did when his brain was working overtime, he finally looked back up at you.

“I’m not asking you for forgiveness or–or to be my friend or anything. I just want you know I really am sorry. For all of it. Okay?”

Sitting there so close to him, your hands inches away from touching, holding each other’s gaze as you listened to the words falling from his lips in sincerity – it was almost too much. The wall you’d built around yourself cracking and straining against this new feeling that had settled in your chest, but the words wouldn’t come to you as your lips parted and you tried and pull yourself together but–

“Dammit, Eddie, no wedgies!”

Dustin’s voice cut through the silence that had settled and Steve reflexively sat up. Pushed himself away from whatever it was you’d waded into together. Away from sorry and the feeling of your hands pressed together and the look you gave him through the long sweep of your lashes and the way you made his heart race. Turned away from you and played it off.

“Hey! Less dicking around, more putting shit together!” he yelled at Dustin and Eddie flipped him off without looking.

“Like you’re doing anything important, big boy!” Eddie hollered back and the way it made Steve’s cheeks grow pink made your lips twitch with a smile you had to work hard to hold back.

“Shut up,” Steve muttered at Eddie, but mostly to himself, and stood from his milk crate to put your filled vodka bottle into the box with the rest.

You watched quietly as he placed the last bottle in and folded the cardboard shut. Muscles tensing and pulling taut as he worked, moving against the fabric of his shirt and you quickly looked away for fear of being caught.

Then your eye caught his nail covered bat tipped against side of the Winnebago and the threat of the Upside Down and all its nasties wrapped around you tight like a vice.

Oh.

Right.

The end of the world.

Just a few yards away Nancy pulled the trigger on her shotgun, the sound making you flinch, and it hit you like a ton of bricks – you had absolutely no clue how to defend yourself against this. Against Him. Against an army from hell. You knew how to throw a punch and knee someone in the crotch and you’d always had an arm on you from playing volleyball, but none of that had anything to do with monsters. Or guns. Or nail covered bats.

“Uhm–” came out mumbled, more sound than word, and it pulled Steve’s attention up from the box.

“What’s that?”

“Can you–er–would you maybe show me how to swing that?” you asked and it made him turn to face you, giving you his full attention.

“What?”

Your cheeks grew hot.

“That bat,” you said shifting uncomfortably on your crate, “I don’t think–I can't shoot a gun.”

Steve’s expression softened as he remembered what it'd felt like the first time he saw a demogorgon. The first time he swung that very bat into the side of a demodog. The first time this world had been exposed to him and he knew how overwhelming and absolutely crazy it all felt.

Grabbing the bat in his hand he gave you a small smile and took the few steps back over to you.

“Sure. It’s not too hard. You know, just aim and swing.”

“Just aim and swing?” your tone was flat, all skeptics, a defensive move against his kindness and it made him chuckle.

“Well, there’s probably more to it than that, but those stupid bats are thick enough when they swarm it’d be hard for anyone to miss.”

Your eyes grew wide at the thought of swarming bats and it made him laugh again, a half-grimace pulling at his features.

“Shit, sorry. Uh–here,” readjusting his grip he bent his knees a bit and dug his heel into the ground. “Just make sure you get a wide stance, yeah? Like, hip width apart? And don’t be afraid to choke up on your hold. It’ll make your swings hit harder.”

He swung the bat and the sound it made as it cut through the air made your breath catch in your throat.

“Wanna try?” the boy held the crude weapon out to you and you swallowed thick. Stood up from your own milk crate and tentatively took it from him.

It was heavy in your hands, heavier than you thought it’d be, but smooth. You did as he said and slid your hands up a little further on the handle and tried a swing, but threw yourself off balance and stumbled forward.

“Ah, that’s okay. Here, uh–” Steve stepped in behind you and placed his hands over yours on the bat, “–try again, but follow through with your hip. Your grip’s good, just don’t throw your full weight forward.”

The warmth of his chest on your back made your cheeks burn again. Made your heart race. Hammering against your ribcage as he slowly took you through the motion again.

“Then when you get to the end of the swing, follow with your hip," his voice was much quieter over your shoulder, words falling into your ear and making you dizzy as he tried so damn hard to keep his focus. Placed a hand on your waist to guide it and toed your foot forward with his shoe as he took a step. “See?”

“Yeah,” was all you could manage, the feeling of his breath on your neck trailing goosebumps across your skin and you couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the way the closeness of him pulled your gaze and when you looked up he was looking too.

“Does that–uh–did that make sense?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper and you nodded. A small thing that barely registered and he was so close now. Close enough his nose nearly brushed your cheek, getting closer by the second and–

“Harrington! Where are those bottles? I gotta get ‘em loaded up!” Eddie yelled from the other side of the RV and the space between you shattered. Both of you stepping away as though you’d touched a hot stove and you pressed the bat into Steve’s hands.

“Should probably get ready,” you muttered and he nodded, cleared his throat and took two big steps back to set the bat down.

“Coming!” Steve called back as he scooped up the box of molotov cocktails, bottles clinking against each other as he walked away and disappeared around the corner of the RV.

King Steve turned Steve Harrington.

Steve Harrington turned something else.

Something more.

Something you thought you’d written off.

Something that held you so tightly now it made you want to run, but at the back of your mind, somewhere soft and warm, you couldn’t help wondering what might happen if you didn’t.

[ NOTE: THIS IS PART THREE OF A – POSSIBLY – FIVE PART SERIES, PART FOUR AND FIVE TO COME SOON ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

461 notes · View notes

sorchathered · 2 months

Text

The Willows Never Stopped Weeping for You

Pairing-Tyler Owens x female OC (Olivia Wright)

Warnings- language, drinking, angst, death, injury, smut

Summary- Olivia let Tyler go to carry out his dreams, but broke his heart in the process. What happens when in the wreckage of a little small town he learns the real reason she left him, and how do they repair it?

A/N- we back at it again on the angst train, third week in a row lol!! I really loved this one, twisters was so good and I am excited to start writing for the fandom! As always, like, comment, reblog anything to let me know what you think!

“We’ve gotta get the hell out of dodge, we can’t sit here any longer Ty!” Dani is panicked, sweat dripping from their brow as they tremble, eyes wild and afraid of what will happen if they don’t make it out.

“I can’t- I can’t leave without her goddamnit and you know it, go ahead of me, you gotta trust me! We will make it out of here, get everyone to safety Dan, I’m serious get the hell out of here!” He yells over the roar of the wind, shoving them towards the rv and as much as it pains the crew, they know Tyler would die in this storm before he ever left Olivia behind. She was his everything, he’d loved her his whole life, and even if things were broken between them he would die a thousand times over to make sure she was safe.

——————————————————————

The crew had been up and down the state the past few weeks, working together with Javi and his crew to test out Kate’s theory and it had been one hell of a ride. They’d mostly been able to help keep the damage to a minimum, but as always with storms like these it was always a risk.

The little town on the outskirts of Enid had been ravaged more than once, but this storm seemed to be hell bent on taking whatever was left of the small community and turning it to rubble. So many injured, and so many homes and businesses destroyed, it seemed like a no-brainer that the government would send aid relief workers to help repair the damage, but what Tyler Owens hadn’t foreseen was the bright green eyes and auburn hair of his first love as he helped people in the aftermath.

Olivia Wright had been his everything since he was fourteen years old, occupied every one of his dirty fantasies and dreams of the future. He’d never been more sure of anyone in his life, until they’d crashed and burned so spectacularly shortly after college. He’d fallen in love with storm chasing, his dreams of working for the NWS had turned into something else entirely as he and the crew of misfits he migrated to became more and more obsessed with the beauty and danger these storms brought.

Liv had their whole future planned, finish college, get married. Ty would work for the NWS and she would become a nurse, fulfilling your passion to help people and getting to be by his side while he pursued his passion for meteorology. The two of them were growing apart, everyone could see it but him, and she knew she’d have to be the one to let go, he was always bigger than the whole sky and Liv couldn’t bear to keep him down. So she broke his heart and her own, and in that time she watched him flourish. His channel and all of his friends, the articles written about his discoveries, she watched it all with rapt attention, he was living out his dreams and Liv couldn’t have been more proud. Eventually she had to decide what was best for her, and watching storms ravage communities just like hers in Arkansas became too much to bear, working in disaster relief and helping to save lives became her passion, she kept her head down and let the work take over, but never lost hope that one day she’d run smack dab into that man that was as wild as the western wind.

It had happened less like a rom com and more like a horror movie, he’d seen her first and lost his cool immediately, ducking under an awning and scrambling to find somewhere, anywhere else to be but near her. Lily, who had been both of their friends in college couldn’t quite figure out what the hell was wrong with him, but it didn’t take long to spot her bright hair and the FEMA t-shirt Liv was sporting as she handed out water to a group not far from theirs.

“Oh my God is that my Livvy?!” She shrieked as she ran for her friend, the two of them erupting in giggles and swaying each other in the midst of the debris-covered road.

“Lily bug!! Oh my goodness what are y’all doing here?! I thought from your last video you guys were over near Lawton!” She said, smacking a hand over her mouth as she realized she’d given herself away already.

“Ooh so you have been watching hmm? Come say hi to everyone cutie pie, it’s been too long and we need to catch up.” She pulled her along but Liv tried to dig her heels in, wild green eyes panicked.

“I can’t intrude Lils, and I don’t want to make Tyler uncomfortable, I’m sure he doesn’t want to see me” she says as she puts both hands up in surrender but Lily is having none of it.

“Nope, you don’t get to pussy out Olivia, life is too short and you know it. Now come on! I want to hear all about your life, and Dani makes some bomb ass burritos so you should try to eat something, it’s gonna be a long day babygirl.

————————————————————-

He somehow manages to avoid her like the plague all day, catching glimpses here and there but mostly staying close to Kate and Javi, much to Lily's frustration if the glares she’s cut at him all afternoon are any indication.

Livvy wasn’t quite sure what to make of it; she had been watching them for so long online that she felt like she knew the crew personally, they were some of the kindest people she’d ever met and it wasn’t lost on her that all of them had been brought together by Ty. He’d made himself a family, it was just another thing that she had missed her chance on and she couldn’t help but feel a little emotional over it.

When Kate had come over to introduce herself later in the evening, it had been obvious to Olivia that she and Tyler had something going on. It was hard to dislike her, she was beautiful and kind, and smart as a whip from what Liv could tell. Definitely perfect for him, so after a while of watching them all interact and being all but ignored by her oldest friend, it got to be too much and she found a way to make her escape, using an early morning as an excuse and holing up in her motel room to lick her wounds and cry.

Lily chases after her with another nasty glare in Tyler’s direction, everyone had questions now and he couldn’t give them, waving them off with a middle finger as he stumbled through the parking lot, a little tipsy and feeling an ache in his chest that he’d thought he’d healed from.

“Liv! Stop damnit, I know this shit is hard but just talk to me honey, tell me.” Lily shouts into the crowded lot and watches her friend's shoulders sag as she turns with tears sliding down her cheeks.

“Oh Lily.” She lets out a ragged breath and lets it all wash over her, everything she’s left unsaid and held deep inside. “I could never deny him happiness, if it’s not with me that’s OK, it’s been a long time and I’ve learned to accept it. If Kate makes him happy then of course I want that for him. I never stopped loving him, so of course I would always want what’s best for him. It wasn’t right back then Lily, that kinda love was unpredictable. We were growing together like two gnarled trees, neither of us were helping the other reach our potential and I had to let him go so we didn’t end up hating each other. “ A shudder runs through her at the declaration, tears are threatening to seep from her eyes but she won’t give them the satisfaction.

“That sounds like horseshit and you know it” Lily says she jabs her finger into Liv’s shoulder, her eyes are full of fire. Liv knows she means well, she’s always been a good man in the storm, someone you want in your corner when things get hard which is why she’s so glad that Tyler has her. Liv lets her shoulders sag and look at Lily full of defeat.

“I can’t change it now, even if I wish I could.”

“Do you wish you could?” She says with raised eyebrow and Olivia gives her a little nod.

“Every day. I miss him every day.” Tears well up in her eyes and she shivers as the wind blows through the camp, but she won’t let the pain overtake her, she made her choice and she can only hope that he’ll be happy.

Olivia doesn’t see it but Lily does, Tyler is half hidden behind the RV, he’s heard it all and she watches as his face goes from grief stricken to angry turning on his heel as he walks off into the dark, the weight of her confession breaking his heart all over again.

—————————————————

He paces the concrete hallway of the motel for what feels like hours, letting the weight of what she said run over him. Had he really been so blind? Olivia hadn’t wanted to let him go, and he’d never thought to question it when she pushed him away. He had been hurt and stubborn, shutting down immediately and saying some of the meanest things he could hurl at her to hurt her back. In hindsight he should have known she was just trying to give him the ability to do what he wanted, but just the fact that she had convinced herself that she was what was holding him back made a fire rage in him. Sure it would have been hard to manage, but they could’ve handled it! They could handle anything together, he’d always told her that, why she would have ever thought otherwise was something he couldn’t reconcile with.

He was at her door before he could stop himself, rapping sharply on the peeling metal and praying that she would listen. The sounds of the lock being undone told him she was still awake, the door swinging open to reveal her puffy tear stained face, hair up in a messy knot on her head and an oversized t shirt full of holes, one that had definitely belonged to him.

“Why are you here Ty? You’d had all day to say something to me, and you waited until midnight?” She said with a sniffle, there was no point in trying to hide what she’d been doing, it was all over her face and his heart clenched in his chest knowing he’d hurt her again.

“You didn’t want us to end, did you?” He said gruffly, he wasn’t leaving until he got his answers, he needed to know the truth.

“What does it matter now? You’re with Kate-“ she said as more tears formed, arms wrapped tightly around her waist as though she was trying to hold herself together.

“I’m not. We tried it, but she’s got her own demons to work out, and we agreed it would be better to be friends. Answer my question baby, I need to hear it. Do you still want me?” He was leaning in close to the door frame now, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body and smell the beer on his breath. Liv let out a ragged breath and nodded, that was all he needed to push the door the rest of the way open and pull her into his arms, kicking the door shut behind him as he pressed kisses to her cheek and neck while she held on for dear life. Sobs wracked her body as he sat down on the creeky mattress, pulling her into his lap as he rocked her side to side.

“My sweet girl” he murmured into her hair, he let her cry it all out until she relaxed in his grip, tipping her chin up to look at him as he stroked her cheek.

“I never stopped hoping for this, I didn’t want to hold you back but- I can’t stay away anymore. I-I love you Ty, I always will.” She stuttered and he let out a groan as he pressed his mouth to hers, flipping them both so she was on her back and spread out for him, she’d been the star of every fantasy he’d ever had, and nothing would ever be as good as the real thing.

“I never stopped either Livvy girl, can I have you? Please baby I- I need it, need to show you how much I missed you.” He looks wrecked, hair a mess and eyes wild, and she can’t stop herself from pulling him down to her, licking into his mouth and running her hands over his broad shoulders, watching him shiver in her embrace as he grinds down into her.

They make up for all the time lost, re-learning each other's bodies until the early morning, finally coming up for air when Tyler’s phone begins to go off with weather alerts and texts from Boone.

“Looks like there’s another cell coming this way, we need to get these people to safety while we can.” He says with a sigh as he rolls his body off of hers, she’s sated and happy as she stretches her limbs like a cat and moans, he feels himself twitch in his boxers as he watches her. She’s like a siren, calling him back to her and he wants nothing more to than to stay right here between the sheets and ravage her again.

“Stop looking at me like that Owens, or we’ll never get out of here in time” she playfully punches his chest and he lets out a hearty laugh, they’d have plenty of time to talk and catch up, he wouldn’t be letting her out of his sight anytime soon.

“Ok, ok sugar, let’s get back out here, storms a comin’ and times a wastin’.”

——————————————————————-

He should have known. He should have known they’d never get that lucky, especially knowing how unpredictable the storms had been this season.

They thought they’d had more time, weather warnings saying the tornado would likely just pass the town, but it had all gone wrong. What had started out as one had turned into two, splitting off and causing maximum damage to what was left of the area. He’d lost Liv and Boone somewhere along the way, Kate and Javi and the rest of the crew were safely out of danger, but somehow the twister had gotten between his truck and yours, and when the dust had settled you and Boone were nowhere to be found.

He was sick, bile crawling up his throat as he trembled, they’d been searching the perimeter when he’d heard Boone screaming for help, tearing through the field of corn to find your upturned truck, mangled and covered in broken glass. Boone had tried his best to pull you from the wreckage, but his shoulder was mangled; most likely dislocated from the crude angle it hung from.

Tyler pulled Olivia’s limp body out and heard a sharp gasp from her, she was alive, that was good. At least that was what he thought until he got her in his arms and saw the jagged shrapnel wedged in her abdomen, blood flowing like a water hose from the wound, way too much to be a minor wound. She kept lolling her head back and forth as she tried to lift her hand to his face, god there was blood everywhere, he couldn’t take the metal out, what if that made it worse? He yelled for Boone to give him his shirt, tears pouring from his eyes as he tried to stop the bleeding, but it just wouldn’t stop coming.

“Livvy, baby look at me ok?” He says with a gentle pat to her cheek, her eyes keep rolling around in her head as she tries to focus on something, anything, but she just can’t seem to get there.

Finally she seems to see him through her unfocused bloodshot eyes, a small victory and he breathes for the first time since he found her.

“Oh god, Ty there’s so much blood! What happened? Are- are you ok? How do we stop it? We need help!” She cries out as her body shakes in his arms, she’s going into shock and bleeding to death but is still selfless to the end, always worried about everyone but herself.

He’s sobbing so hard now he can hardly speak, just kissing whatever skin he can get to as he holds her tightly, still pressing hard into the gaping wound despite knowing it won’t do anything to stop the inevitable. He’s going to lose her, and he just got her back.

A scream comes from somewhere, Tyler jolting awake from the world’s most uncomfortable hospital chair. He’s drenched in sweat, and his neck aches, as he looks around the dimly lit room he realizes the scream came from him. He’s replayed that awful night over and over for the past three days, it ends with Olivia choking on her own blood as she fades away and he can’t seem to make his brain understand that while it definitely happened that way, the end result wasn’t quite so gruesome. She’s alive, unconscious, but alive. How EMS found them in time will consume his thoughts for a good long while. He’d been so sure he’d lost her but the miracles just kept coming because somehow the doctors were able to save her and had assured him that though recovery would be long and hard she would in fact recover.

—————————————————————

Months later he would still be convinced it was all just a dream, the nightmares had ceased but the jagged scar along Olivia’s sternum would always be there to remind him of how close he’d come to losing it all.

He lived for chasing storms, he’d convinced himself it was everything he’d ever need after she’d left, but he’d been so wrong.

She’d never ask him to give it up, but he didn’t know if he could continue to run after something that had nearly taken everything from him. He and Kate took a job consulting with the NWS on her research after Ben’s article got traction, and he left his truck to Boone to continue the legacy and the channel. He wanted to prevent the storms from happening before they started and he knew with Kate’s research and the grants from the government they could really dig in and make a difference.

He asked her to marry him on her birthday, 6 months after the accident and she’d said yes before he could even finish his speech. The future hadn’t been linear like he thought, he didn’t have to accept what he thought he deserved and finally allowed himself to accept what he wanted. Olivia Wright Owens sounded damn good to him, and maybe one day a house full of babies. Yeah he could definitely make that his new dream.

Tagging- @sailor-aviator @goldenseresinretriever @hangmanapologist @roosterforme @trickphotography2 @mynameismckenziemae @seitmai @sebsxphia @im-just-ken @kmc1989 @jessicab1991 @dizzybee03 @nouis-bum @attapullman @bobgasm @floydsglasses @withahappyrefrain

#tyler owens #Tyler Owens x oc #twisters #twister movie #twisters fanfic #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens twisters #tyler owens x kate carter #kate carter #boone twisters

192 notes · View notes

angelwings-crossbowstrings · 10 months

Text

Blood Ties Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, canonical character death, sexual themes/situations, masturbation

A/N: The series will heavily follow the timeline and events of the show but there will be additional non-canonical events/injuries/etc.

Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

You sat quietly in the passenger seat of Daryl’s truck after the caravan had stopped for a problem with the RV. There had been introductions after you had gathered your bearings during the last stop, and your trauma-addled brain was working overtime to retain the information.

Along with the RV’s issues, the group was currently saying goodbye to one of their own. It seemed too intimate an affair for you to include yourself, an outsider. The man had been bitten. It was your understanding they were all headed for the CDC in Atlanta, desperate for a cure before the sickness could take him.

But the fever had won, as it always did.

You watched as the frail man was carefully moved to the base of a tree, but then averted your gaze as they bid him farewell. They were all affected, heads down as they returned—one by one—to their vehicles. They intended to leave him, per his own wishes. You weren’t sure if that was a choice you could make were you the one in his predicament. It was both admirable and ludicrous.

Daryl returned to the truck, remaining quiet as he climbed behind the wheel. He hadn’t spoken a word to you, which left you with a tight feeling inside your chest that you couldn’t—wouldn’t—name. You wondered if you were only there because of the possibility that his baby was growing inside of you. It hadn’t been mentioned.

I told ya she’s good.

He hadn’t given the group any information. They knew your name per your own admission, which alone was enough to twist the archer’s face into a scowl. You were a dirty little secret. You had placed your remaining fragments of hope in Daryl after losing everything and he was treating you like he’d left a few loose bills on a dresser after fucking you in a sleazy motel.

You scrutinized him from the corner of your eye; the way he was tapping the tip of each finger against the steering wheel as he drove. His other arm was resting on the door, the window down, while he rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip. The broken skin on the sides of the digit suggested that it was indeed a habit he turned to in times of stress. He was consciously trying not to indulge.

You cleared your throat, keeping your eyes on the back of the vehicle in front of you. “I’m sorry about your friend.” You dared a glance at the same time he gave you a once over.

“Weren’t no friend’a mine.”

Lie. You could clearly see he was affected. It was borderline offensive that he’d even try to deny it. “Right. Well, I’m sorry anyway.” The uncomfortable silence stretched on, leaving you with vivid images of your encounters with the redneck. Even after you had told him you might be pregnant, there hadn’t been this thick tension in the air between the two of you. “Thank you.” He looked at you again, barely moving his hand away from his mouth. “For saving me.”

He hummed, this time parting his lips to nip at the irritated skin of his thumb. You wanted so badly to reach over and guide his hand away, but you knew that was a bad idea.

“Ya take one’a them tests?”

Ah, there it was. Your back slid down the seat while you nervously twisted the hem of your flannel around your index finger. “Uh, no. I lost them when I ran from the camp.” He shot you a look so quickly you thought he might have given himself whiplash.

“Y’fuckin’ serious?”

You nodded, expecting an outburst, but you still flinched when his fist came down on the doorframe, keeping it clenched when he brought it back to his mouth. “It was an accident. I wasn’t exactly thinking of them when I was wrestling a geek for my bag. Lost most of my clothes and my canteen, too.”

He let out a condescending humph from behind his hand. “Ya sure it’s even mine?”

Now it was your turn to pin him down with a look of your own. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Means exactly what I said.”

You felt the sting of tears behind your eyes, along with the urge to throttle him right where he sat, regardless of the fact that he was driving. “Well, there was that other hunter I’d meet at dawn and then the one that would wait patiently until you got your rocks off first.”

“Ya think your funny?”

“I’m not trying to be funny, asshole. If there’s a baby, unfortunately, it’s yours.” His piercing gaze met your narrowed eyes, only holding for a moment before he had to look back at the road. “Can you pull over?”

“Gonna puke again?”

“No.” You snapped, angling your body toward the door. “I want to get out.”

“Why?”

“Because being trapped in such a small space with you is going to make me puke. Now, pull over.”

To his credit, he did slow down. “Nah.” He pressed the gas and easily caught up with the car in front of him.

“Don’t worry, Daryl. I won’t tell anyone your secret.” You hissed the word with such venom that you swore you could taste the remnants of it on the tip of your tongue.

“Settle down. Ain’t lettin’ ya out so ya can get your fool self killed.”

You threw yourself back against the seat with more force than necessary, crossing your arms. You wondered if you suddenly began to pray that god or whoever was listening might possibly just see fit to bestow upon you the monthly occurrence that most women deem as a curse.

This was the reason the time between you in those woods was so limited. No feelings involved. Little to no social information exchanged. You liked the Daryl that made it priority to worship your body and fuck you senseless, his only words being filthy encouragement that would catapult you to and over the edge. Even when he accompanied you to the pharmacy, his presence wasn’t a negative contribution to the journey. You had actually felt oddly—comfortable.

But the Daryl that you were currently trapped inside a beat up old pickup truck with had spoken all of seven sentences and you wanted to shoot him in the groin. You couldn’t imagine having a child with that man. Didn’t want to imagine it. If only your baser instincts hadn’t been so prominent over common sense when you saw him in the woods that third time.

You could vomit now when you thought back on that specific meeting. You quite literally propositioned him while stalking toward him and simultaneously ripping off your shirt. He had looked so confused at first but caught up quickly. He was deep inside you while you straddled his lap less than five minutes later. Why hadn’t you at least had the brain power to tempt him just enough and send him to get condoms first? Nope. You jumped straight on his dick like a horny teenager.

“For the love of fucks sake.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, ashamed at how recalling the carnal moments spent with the man across the bench seat from you had heat pooling at the apex of your thighs. You shifted, crossing your legs and pressing one down on the other, the tough inseam of your jeans rubbing just right over your clit to send a jolt of pleasure all the way down to your toes. You only barely stifled a moan.

A quick glance found Daryl still watching the road, lighting up a cigarette. Yet another thing you didn’t know about him. You shifted your hips while casting quick, discrete glances. He was seemingly oblivious. Biting your bottom lip, you turned your face toward the window and continued the careful side to side of your hips, very slowly but very steadily working toward what would undoubtedly be a quick and not totally satisfying orgasm. Still, it was better than the alternatives of either sliding your hand into your panties or asking the man beside you to slide his hand into your panties.

You noticed your breaths quickening and inhaled deeply through your nose to try and calm both that and your heartrate. The hot coil burning in your lower belly was tightening, pulses of pleasure bleeding out to culminate at the swollen bud that your jeans were stimulating. You were so close, almost there—

Daryl cleared his throat, flicking his smoke out the window and unintentionally bringing a sudden halt to any progress you had made toward release. You openly glared at him.

“What?” He huffed, sneering at your obvious resentment.

“You’re an asshole.”

It was near dusk when the caravan finally pulled up to the CDC. There had been stops to siphon fuel, take bathroom breaks, and go over plans and strategies. You had remained inside the cab of the truck, not trusted enough to be privy on their plans. You couldn’t really fault them. Even if they had included you, nothing they had said could have prepared you for the devastation outside the government building.

“We’re really going out there?” You asked, feeling nauseated at the thought of seeing the bodies up close.

“Yep.” Daryl replied casually, already outside the truck. He was holding his crossbow as well as a shotgun and was looking at you expectantly. “C’mon. Get the lead out, woman.”

Puffing out your cheeks in a forced exhale, you opened the truck door. The stench of death and rot was even worse when you stepped out onto the pavement. Flies and maggots were in abundance, feasting on the fallen littering the ground. You gagged behind your hand, ushered forward by a surprisingly gentle hand from the redneck.

“Can’t stop here.”

When you caught up with the group, the one called Shane was directing everyone like a traffic cop, trying to keep fear and panic to a minimum. “All right, everybody. Keep moving. Go on. Stay quiet. Let's go. Okay, keep moving. Stay together.”

Rick joined in, urging everyone forward while Jacqui and Shane tried to keep the group quiet. You were at the rear of the main cluster of people with Daryl following closely behind you. You could hear the commotion before you saw Shane pounding on the shutters that were keeping the entrance blocked.

“Walkers!” Daryl called out, firing a shot that made you flinch.

“Walkers?” You blurted before realizing exactly what he meant. “Oh fuck!” You had no weapon, absolutely no method of defending yourself. Before you could protest, Daryl had reached back with one arm and pushed you behind himself. You didn’t have time to think too hard on it before he was yelling.

“Ya led us into a graveyard!”

Your hands had fisted into the back of his shirt, subsequently allowing him to guide you where he needed you without sacrificing his focus.

“He made a call!” Shane sounded from somewhere behind you.

Daryl growled harshly, the sound vibrating your hands against his back. “It was the wrong damn call!” He shouted. The commotion continued, blame and orders being thrown about in shouts and pleas you ignored in favor of burying your face between Daryl’s shoulder blades. You had survived; lost your entire family and stayed alive only to die with a handful of strangers and a man you almost wished you had made more of an effort to get to know. Amidst the crying children, the screaming women, you could clearly hear and focus on Rick’s desperate declaration:

“You’re killing us! You’re killing us! You’re killing us!”

“Daryl.” You sobbed before you could stop yourself.

Then, something unexpected but no less of a miracle.

The shutters began to open, dousing you all in a most blessed light.

468 notes · View notes

a-killer-obsession · 4 months

Text

PITCHING TENTS ⛺️

Kid Pirates x AFAB Reader Modern AU Campground Series

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

It wasn't something you'd ever admit to those who knew you, they all made the reasonable assumption that you went camping to spend time alone. At first, that had been the case, but you'd quickly come to learn that other single men your age were doing the same thing, and you found yourself loving the thrill of a romp with a stranger.

Masterlist || AO3

PART 1/6 - LAY OF THE LAND

CW: None for this chapter, just R18 mentions of sex.

WC: ~3k

Taglist: @nocturnalrorobin

A/n: I'm vaguely setting this in my home country of NZ, based on a campsite I frequent, for entirely selfish purposes but also because it's easy to describe a place you've been to a million times. Anyway, when I mention forests those are the kinds I mean, no fear of a rogue bear or mountain lion ✌️

You pulled into the quiet campsite in the middle of nowhere as you did every year around this time. Set between large mountainous hills covered in dense forest, and boasting a pool heated naturally by nearby geothermal activity, the site was a popular, bustling location in the on season. You, however, enjoyed the off season, when it was quiet, almost entirely abandoned save for the grounds keeper and his dog, and a handful of long term residents, living out their retirements in quiet bliss in the RVs that lined the very back of the campgrounds. You parked your humble car in front of the office that was built alongside a small shop, usually selling entry and icecreams to locals who came here for the pools, but also held a selection of basics such as toilet paper and cup noodles for campers in desperate need of a grocery trip.

The gravel that lined the carpark crunched underfoot as you made your way to the wooden ramp that led to the office and store building, the whole complex no bigger than a shipping container. The eggy smell of sulphur from the nearby geothermal activity filled your nostrils, unpleasant at first but a smell you'd quickly get accustomed to as you always did. A bell rang as you opened the door, the older woman assigned to mind the store today hurrying out from out back, you could hear the TV she'd been watching as she came out front. This time of the year customers were nil to none, so the counters relied on bells for service, usually unmanned otherwise. The chances of someone stealing from the store while it was unoccupied were slim, but you could assume they had a camera set up to watch from a screen out back anyway.

“[Y/n]!” The old woman exclaimed, taking her seat behind the desk, “I was happy to see you on our books this morning”

“Can't miss my mid-year vacay, Marg,” you replied with a smile, pulling out your wallet and leaning against the desk. You'd been coming here for years, and Margie had worked here for just as long. “What do I owe ya?”

“Minus the deposit you already paid, that'll be $65 sweetheart,” she smiled, clicking a few buttons on the keyboard at a snail pace as she worked on printing a receipt. You handed her the cash and the til made a clunk as the drawer popped open, Marg replacing your four twenty dollar notes with a five and a ten and handing them back to you. You slipped them back into your wallet and she handed you a keycard for the gate that kept pool visitors and strangers out of the campgrounds. Well, their cars anyway, they could absolutely just walk around it.

“Usual spot sweetheart, I'm sure you don't need a map,” she stood to return to her back room. She was definitely getting older, and standing was clearly more difficult for her than it had been in previous years. You'd be sad the year you came to camp and weren't greeted by her friendly face

You thanked her and made your exit, getting back into your car and making sure to roll down your window. You slowly made the short distance to the card receiver, leaning out your window a little to hold the card against it. A small light flashed green and the metal arm creaked as it began to raise. Your car was small, so you didn't have to wait for it to raise completely before you were passing underneath it and navigating the familiar gravel roads to your favourite spot. There were no additional parking spots at each spot, you were expected to either park on them or leave your car in front of the office, so you pulled onto the grass alongside the road between the brick lines that marked the boundary of your spot.

Your usual spot was close to the middle of the grounds, directly across from the communal kitchen building, and just a thirty second walk from the main toilet and shower block. There were other, smaller toilet blocks scattered around the grounds, but this was the only one that featured showers and laundry. The kitchen building was also just a nice place to hang out, having a semi covered outdoor area framed by benches, one of the only places other than your own rented spot where you were allowed to drink alcohol, so it was a great place to meet other campers. At first glance, anyone would think a lone woman coming to a campground on the off season was here for peace and quiet. On the contrary, you found during the busy season there were usually far too many large families and happy couples. The off season was for singles, and you were here for one thing and one thing only: sex with strangers.

It wasn't something you'd ever admit to those who knew you, they all made the reasonable assumption that you were here to spend time alone, always turning down offers from friends to join you. At first, that had been the case. A spontaneous camping trip in the middle of the year to cool down after a particularly stressful project at work finally wrapped up. But you'd quickly come to learn that other single men your age were doing the same thing, and you found yourself loving the thrill of a romp with a stranger. The campsite being so empty also made for additional excitement, after many years here you'd had sex in or on most of the campground's amenities. The kitchen, the pool, the showers, on top of a laundry machine. It was an excitement you struggled to find in the big city you came from, without wasting money on a hotel room there was no good way to have sex with a stranger without being caught and without them knowing where you lived and getting attached, because like hell were you going to a strange man's house on your own.

You quickly set about working on your tent, pulling item after item from the back of your car and setting up with well practised speed. Soon you were closing the car boot and admiring your work. A decently sized, two chambered tent - the first chamber holding your cooler and a small fold down table for prepping a quick snack at night. The kitchens had multiple large fridges available for use, but you liked to keep your beer and soda in an ice bath in your tent for easy access. Every morning and evening you would go to the small camp store and buy a bag of ice, but for now the cooler was empty. The second chamber was larger and held most of your belongings, as well as a queen sized, double layered, inflatable mattress, already set with comfortable bedding. You even had a small fold down side table and camping lamp, which had a handle for late night toilet visits, and you'd run an extension cable from the site provided power you'd paid extra for, to your side table, so you could charge your phone and laptop from the bed. There was no internet here, and barely any phone signal, but you'd downloaded plenty of movies, tv shows and e-books before leaving home, as well as bringing a handful of actual novels, a switch console and drawing supplies. You weren't a fantastic artist by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a hobby you enjoyed and liked to practise anyway.

Outside your tent you'd also set up a small gazebo, after your first few years you'd gotten sick of being trapped inside the tent whenever it rained, and it also provided shelter for a large trestle table and tabletop barbecue so you could grill regardless of the rain. There were also a few collapsible chairs under the gazebo, a larger reclining one where you spent most of your time, and a smaller more basic one in case you had a guest. Aka another camper you intended to, or hand already fucked.

Satisfied with your setup, you took a quick break to check your phone and let your friends know you'd made it safe and sound, before climbing back in your car and heading to the grocery store in the small nearby town. The town was about a twenty minute drive away, a small oceanside tourist town that was mostly a pass through for those heading to a nearby famous beach, or to board boats or small privately run helicopters for whale and dolphin watching. You'd never bothered with the tourist traps, but you had once or twice hit the beach when you'd come during the on season with friends.

Thriving on local tourism, the town was humble compared to the city you'd come from, but large enough to have two supermarkets and a decent size home goods store, as well as a long stretch of boutiques and cafes. You head to your favourite supermarket, pulling into the half full car park and heading inside. You pulled up your list on your phone as you approached the doors, grabbing a trolley and setting about your shopping. Food for several days, beer, condoms, all very important. A novel that caught your eye, some trashy magazines, snacks for late night movies. A comically large cucumber caught your eye, and you snapped a pic to send to your friends with the caption ‘finally found a boyfriend 🥒💦’

Everything on your list gathered, you headed for the checkouts. A big, noisy, red ute pulled into the carpark as you started loading your groceries into the reusable totes you kept in the back of your car. It parked nearby and four fucking massive men jumped out, shoving each other and laughing boisterously. Definitely not locals by the looks of it, the back of the ute loaded up with what looked like camping equipment, tied down with straps and a piece of blue tarpaulin that didn't cover everything. You wondered if they'd be staying at the same grounds as you, it was the most well known in the area given its pool that was free use for the campers and the nearby hiking trail that offered incredible views of the entire area all the way out to the ocean. You licked your lips at their beefy builds, a girl could certainly dream, any of them would make a fine target for your sexual escapades.

The red haired one among them wolf whistled as he passed by, as you bent over the boot of your car to reach an extra tote that had fallen under a seat. You turned back to him, a hand on your hip, and winked playfully. He blushed, clearly not having expected that reaction, and his friends whooped and smacked him playfully. The group followed behind the redhead who was fleeing as fast as he could, and you continued packing away your groceries and returned your trolley before heading back to camp.

When you got back you unpacked everything, putting your chillables in the provided fridges, your name written in clear black marker over each package, and filled your cooler with the bag of ice you'd grabbed from the camp store on your way in before putting your beer and soda in to chill. The food that didn't need refrigeration was stored in your tent in a small latchable plastic box to keep any rodents away. All done with your chores, you ate a quick lunch of some pre-made food you'd grabbed at the supermarket, and decided to hit up the pool.

You made your way back up the gravel path from the pool, slide on sandals on your feet and a towel wrapped around your body. You were still in your bikini, your wet hair sending droplets of fresh water from the rinsing shower down your body. You watched a bird native to the area fly overhead before the sound of boisterous laughter caught your attention. Usually, at this time of the year, campsite guests would pick locations far away from each other, most people came here this time of the year to be alone. The grounds were arranged in blocks, each block holding ten or twelve sites, split with half to one road and half to another. There were a good amount of blocks, the grounds could probably accommodate a good couple hundred people at its peak, though right now you could only see three other tents far from yours.

You could hear the group before you spotted their red ute, the same one from the grocery store, obscured by your own setup until you got closer. They'd rented what looked like multiple sites right next to yours. Usually, you would be annoyed, but being that they were all so delicious you were delighted. This was going to be a successful holiday indeed.

The group was made up of four large men. There was the redhead who had whistled at you, he looked to be the youngest of the group, as wide as he was tall with a thick scar that ran down his face, giving him a natural bad boy appearance. He was soft looking, but in a strong, could definitely throw you over his shoulder sort of way, like a boxer. You noticed now that he was missing his left arm, it must have been facing away from you at the store. He wore eyeliner, which you noticed now they all did, along with a vibrant red lipstick that matched his hair. He looked very punk in dark ripped jeans and a leather vest he wore open, showing the scar that ran over his torso, along with a big fuck-off belt buckle and multiple silver chains hanging from his belt. The nails on his one hand were painted a darker red, and he had a black fabric headband holding back his wild hair.

Next was the shortest of the group, though certainly not short by normal standards. Dressed in a simple blue t-shirt and jeans, his impressive blond hair went all the way to his hips. His sharp featured face was partially obscured by messy straight bangs and a fluffy goatee, his lips painted purple as he flashed a bright toothy smile at the redhead.

The other two both dressed in a punk aesthetic much like the redhead, two slightly older men with impressive heights, one of them towering above all four of them. The shorter man had pale blue hair set in dreads, his face covered in unusual scars and thorn like tattoos wrapping around his neck and down his arms. The taller hid his hair under a black hoodie, but you could see pointed sideburns peeking out under them. He looked deliciously muscular under the tight netting shirt he wore.

The four of them were going about their setup, four separate single chamber tents laid out on the ground to sort their positions while the blond and tall one carried an excessive amount of grocery bags to the shared kitchen. It was just as well there was hardly anyone at the camp, they'd need a whole fridge on their own with that much food. Deciding to make your intentions clear as soon as possible, you laid a towel over your reclining chair and grabbed a beer, relaxing in your bikini that showed off your fit body. The redhead was quick to notice, and you tilted your sunglasses to wink at him. He realised why he recognized you and you heard him swear and scurry away. Cute.

You watched their entire setup process hungrily, watching their muscles flex as they unloaded the ute and set things in place. The redhead was no help with the tents, so he worked on setting up smaller things like their large barbecue and chairs while the other three got the tents erected. You couldn't help but notice that they hadn't brought a gazebo, they must be newbies. Hopefully the weather would be fine for however long they were staying, you hoped for more than one day, and given the amount of food they had you would guess at least three.

All of them eventually took notice of you, catching sly glances where they could. The blond one seemed the most confident, openly flexing and showing off, flashing you wide grins that you eagerly returned. Oh you would definitely be climbing that tree. The redhead continued to act shy, doing things that were clearly to show of his strength but refusing to meet your eye. The bluenette gave you kind looking smiles, and the tall one looked at you with suspicion, which you always responded to by changing which leg was crossed over the other, giving him a full view of your barely clothed centre. It didn't seem to phase him though, curious.

Your phone pinged at some point and you checked it, starting a conversation with your bestie about your current view. She was the only person who knew the real reason you took these holidays. You snapped a quick, sneaky pic of the four men as they set up.

You: [one attachment] You: finally found a boyfriend 🥒💦 Bestie: LMAO finally a man that can satisfy You: might have found a few more of those Bestie: yeah? Good huntin? 👀 You: new neighbours You: [one attachment] Bestie: fuck me Bestie: or rather, fuck you, hopefully You: the blond one is giving me eyes for sure Bestie: yeah? You layin down that charm girlie You: lets just say i just got back from the pool, and im enjoying a nice beer on my recliner 👙 Bestie: yes queen! Give them a good look at that meal, they're gonna be eatin you up in no time! You: fingers crossed 🤞 you know im in dire need of a good fuck, heres hoping they're not all just a gay polycule, that'd be just my luck Bestie: well it sounds like at least the blond is dtf You: hes got a cute ass smile, cant wait to ride it 🤠 Bestie: girl you are nasty! 😂 Go get that dick queen 🍆 ttyl, ily! You: luv u!

You put down your phone and finished your beer, deciding you'd laid around for long enough and it was probably time to get started on dinner. It was already late in the day, if you were going to attract any of the boys it likely wouldn't be today, you needed the novelty of camping to wear off for them before they came sniffing around for more excitement. Not to mention you were tired from driving all morning and setting up. You pulled a few things from the kitchen, carrying them back on one of your plastic camping plates, and grilled yourself a steak while you scooped a few premade deli salads onto your plate. You enjoyed your meal while reading your new book, noting the smell of meat in the air and the sounds of sizzling and beer cans opening nearby as your neighbours settled in for their own dinner.

When it got too dark to read you took your dishes to the kitchen to wash them, grabbed your toiletries from your tent, and took a quick shower. The weather was warm enough to make the short walk in your nightie, so you strutted back to your tent with your legs and cleavage on proud display, your nipples pert under the satin night dress which was trimmed with thick lace, hanging from your shoulders by delicate spaghetti straps. You'd never have walked around in public like this if you had neighbours you weren't trying to fuck, but you were more than happy for the boys to look at you, and look they did. You gave them a short wave before you entered your tent, grabbing a new beer and your laptop and settling in to watch a movie.

[NEXT PART]

#one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #killer one piece #killer x reader #massacre soldier killer #heat one piece #heat x reader #kid pirates #eustass kid #kid one piece #kid x reader #eustass kid x reader #kid pirates x reader #wire one piece #wire x reader

112 notes · View notes

loveinhawkins · 2 years

Text

Part 1 Part 2

Behind him, Eddie hears the others beginning to stir. The illusion, the foolish hope that he could just keep driving alone with Steve, that he could have all the time in the world to fix this shatters in a matter of seconds: Nancy’s light tread approaches and, as he reaches an intersection, it’s like he can already hear a clock beginning to tick.

“Why… why are we going this way?”

And, God, Eddie is so damn grateful for Nancy Wheeler: she’s tactful, keeps her voice down, as if she already suspects something. Hell, she must do; if Eddie can recall directions to Steve’s house, she’ll definitely sense where they’re heading.

Another stop light. Straight ahead after this, then…

Eddie glances to the side, just in time to see Nancy’s eyes widen as she looks at Steve.

She whispers his name.

Steve gives the subtlest shake of his head.

Eddie has to look away—it’s an intimate exchange, yes, but it’s not romantic, that’s not why he can’t bear it. It’s the fact that they’re so clearly sharing last-minute signals, silent communication only created by going through hell over and over again, and it makes him feel sick that he now knows what their expressions mean. Their doomsday looks.

When he pulls up to Steve’s driveway, he hears various murmurs of confusion—Dustin is the loudest.

Steve claps his hands and everyone falls abruptly silent.

“Okay!” he says, rising from his seat, and he sounds determined, almost up-beat; Christ, Eddie doesn’t know how he manages it. “Sinclairs, Mayfield, Henderson, you’re all with me. We’ll be in and out, got it?”

He heads out of the RV with purpose. Save for Eddie and Nancy, everyone is looking at each other with wide eyes and furrowed brows. Robin opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, Steve calls from outside, “Hello? Come on, let’s go!” and it sounds so normal, like they’re just running late for school or something.

I might not have known, Eddie thinks, with a creeping horror. If I had slept instead… fuck, why are you such a good actor, Steve?

Erica leads the way out, prompting the others to follow; Eddie hears frantic whispers that he can’t decipher, Max lifting up one side of her headphones so she can hear as Dustin and Lucas crowd close to her, hopping outside and heading to the house.

Robin moves to the RV door, but Nancy stops her.

“Robin, stay here. I need to talk to you,” she says firmly, and it sounds like Code Red. She fixes Eddie with a pointed look and nods towards the house, like it’s not even a question that Eddie should go after Steve.

So, he does. Of course he does.

He finds them all in the kitchen, voices echoing, rebounding off the high ceiling.

“What are we doing?” Lucas says.

The kids have formed a little group by the counter, staring as Steve opens cupboards, his back to them.

“Want some back-up alcohol for Operation Flambé,” Steve says easily, “just in case.”

It could almost work, Eddie thinks. He can hear the clinking of glass as Steve methodically pulls bottles off the shelves—that is what he’s doing, so it’s not exactly a lie. Not yet. But he looks at the growing frowns of shrewd kids that are too used to waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Steve must sense it, too, because he stops collecting bottles, turns round to face them. He gets closer, rests his hands on the counter. The pretense drops.

“...Steve?” Erica says.

“You guys trust me, right?”

Eddie doesn't answer; he knows it's not directed towards him. He watches as the rest nod as one. Steve takes a deep breath.

“This is the deal, non-negotiable, okay? I don’t ask much from you, so, y’know. Figure you owe me one.” He’s smiling again, his tone flippant; he’s trying so hard to make it easy for them. Eddie digs his fingernails into his palms. “Here’s your jobs for tonight: you stay right here. Eat some food, put on a movie, I don't care. Just no moving.” He points at Max. “You keep that Walkman on. I've got... see that cabinet, by the T.V? Got some tapes in there, Hounds of Love is on the... third row, I think? Yeah, see the purple? If your one wears out, you've got a back-up.”

They just stare at him. Relief sweeps through Lucas’s and Max’s shoulders, even as they stand rigid with tension, like they’re at war with themselves. Like they feel ashamed at the instinct to stay safe. Christ, they’re all just too young, far too young for any of this.

And so are you, Eddie thinks fiercely, as he watches Steve sweep past them, going up the stairs two at a time. So are you.

Dustin snaps out of it first. He moves forward, voice sharp and urgent, “Steve? Steve!” He barges past Eddie like he isn't even there, then thunders up the stairs.

Eddie follows.

He hears the tail-end of Max saying, “Lucas, he's... I can't feel him anymore. Why can't I—?” Then, he reaches the top of the stairs, heads to what must be Steve’s bedroom. He hovers in the doorway.

“—not even going to look at me?” Dustin is asking.

Steve doesn't answer. He's rooting around one of his drawers, distractedly pulls out a cassette, puts it into his jeans pocket. Eddie sees the horrible moment where it clicks for Dustin—of course, it barely takes half a second, kid's as smart as a whip. All the colour drains from his face.

“Steve,” he says. “You can't just—this isn't how we do things.”

“I'm older than you,” Steve returns. “I'm pulling rank for once, Henderson.” He's pinching the bridge of his nose harshly, still not looking at Dustin.

Dustin laughs. It’s an awful sound, his voice cracking with vulnerability. “Seriously? Fuck you.”

Eddie can’t stand it, feels like he’s intruding on something deeply private.

Steve sniffs, starts to head for the door.

“If—if you leave, I’m never speaking to you again,” Dustin says.

“Okay,” Steve says gently.

Dustin reels from the word as if struck. His eyes fill with furious tears. “I hate you.”

“Dustin,” Eddie says quietly, even though he knows that Dustin doesn’t mean it; it’s obvious that he doesn't mean it. It’s a tactic Eddie is all too familiar with: to say the most hurtful thing you can think of, just to make the other person lash out—because even if they’re angry with you, at least they’ve stayed.

Make sure Dustin doesn’t see, Steve had said. The reason is clear. Because Dustin’s eyes are full of something wild and desperate, like he would follow Steve anywhere.

I can't let that happen, Eddie realises. Steve’s almost at the doorway, and from here Eddie can see him angrily swipe a tear off his cheek, out of Dustin’s view. It would break him.

Steve turns, finally looks back. “It’s okay, Dustin,” he says, soft and kind. Kind until the end. “It's okay.”

And then he leaves.

“Eddie,” Dustin whispers. “Please.”

“I'm sorry,” Eddie says. It's all he can say. “Dustin, I’m so fucking sorry.”

It's torture, seeing the flash of hurt and betrayal across Dustin’s face. He storms out, catches Eddie's chest with his elbow.

Make sure Dustin doesn’t see.

Dustin might be fast, but Eddie is faster; at the foot of the stairs, he easily darts in front. With long, quick strides, he reaches the RV, sees that Nancy, Robin and Steve are already inside, and he locks the door, runs to the driver’s seat. Dustin is a second too late, pounding on the glass. Eddie has never heard someone scream like that before.

He glances behind as he reverses. Steve sits directly on the floor, his head in his hands; Robin is rubbing his back, murmuring something to him.

Eddie speeds away. His last sight of Dustin is in the wing mirror, trying to run after them, only stopping when it’s clearly hopeless.

“Fuck,” Steve whispers, and then he dry heaves.

“I've got water,” Robin says frantically. “Here, here, slow sips.”

There's a gentle hand on Eddie's shoulder. Nancy.

“Where...” Eddie clears his throat. “Where to, Wheeler?”

“Your trailer,” she says, and it sounds like something else again, like thank you and I'm sorry all at once.

He doesn’t talk for the whole drive there. The others keep up the conversation, Eddie straining to hear every noise Steve makes, inwardly pleading that he never falls silent. The plan is hastily amended: the extra alcohol Steve has brought means that they can split their supplies, leaving some for Vecna and some for deterring the bats and vines. He nods when Robin asks if there’s a tape deck in his room, which settles it: he will stay with Steve in the trailer, and… wait.

They don’t mention the word bait, but Eddie can hear it anyway.

Once he’s parked, Robin and Nancy get out first, carrying the drinks and weapons. When he gets out of his seat, he finds that Steve is still halfway to standing, swaying slightly, as if sea-sick.

“Woah, woah, hey,” Eddie says quickly, and he carefully pulls Steve up with one hand. Steve’s palm is damp with cold sweat, his pulse jumping rapidly in his neck, feverish. “Still with me?”

Steve’s eyes dart around before settling on Eddie.

What are you seeing? Eddie thinks, his own heart beating faster at the unknown he isn’t privy to. Let me in. Let me help.

But all Steve says is, “Get ready to duck out the way, man, feel like m’gonna throw up.”

Eddie squeezes his hand. “You’re good, I was kinda thinking my shirt should be a different colour.”

Steve wrinkles his nose, chuckles weakly. “Gross.”

He drops Eddie’s hand and climbs out of the RV. Eddie stays close, ready to catch him if he so much as stumbles.

In the trailer, Robin and Nancy wait by the makeshift rope. Steve’s posture straightens as they look at him, as if to say, See? Don’t worry about me.

“Give him hell, Nance,” he says.

Nancy nods. “See you when we get back,” she says, her tone firm. She catches Eddie’s eye, and the intent is clear: Look after him.

Eddie nods back. Always.

Robin’s lips are trembling; she’s trying to fight it, but it’s there all the same.

“Come on, Rob,” Steve says, through another one of his smiles, but his voice tightens, like he might break down if he’s shown an ounce of sympathy. And when he gives her a little wave, it’s like Eddie can see the routine of it, like Steve is simply bidding Robin goodbye after dropping her off somewhere. “See you soon.”

Robin doesn’t hug him, even though she’s clearly desperate to; must have noticed, just as Eddie did, that it would make this even harder still for Steve. Instead, she gives a joking little salute, like a sailor, and there must be something in that, because Steve lets out a choked laugh, and they all pretend that it doesn’t resemble a sob.

The girls climb the rope quickly, and by the time Eddie has turned back after having watched them leave, Steve has already headed for Eddie’s room, presumably looking for the tape deck.

But when Eddie hurriedly follows him, there’s no music playing, and Steve is sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“Don’t you want your music on for a bit?”

Steve shakes his head, then nods in the direction of the gate. “Wanna start the distraction as soon as possible,” he says, “give them the best shot.”

The distraction. Like he isn’t risking everything, like he’s just feigning a move on the goddamn basketball court.

“Okay,” Eddie says placatingly. He sits down opposite Steve, close enough that their knees bump. “Sorry, I should’ve vacuumed.”

Steve laughs, but it breaks off at the end. “Y-yeah, where’s the welcoming…” His voice fails and he sighs shakily. “Sorry, Eddie, I—I’m just. I’m really fucking scared.”

He sounds embarrassed. Eddie reaches for his hand, and Steve clings on in a tight grip, like he’s drowning.

“Jesus Christ, Steve, don’t be sorry. Don’t you dare.”

“That a threat, Munson?”

“You know what? Sure. Thought you could do with some more pressure.”

Steve gives a lovely, tender little smile. “Hey. Thanks. For… everything.”

Eddie shakes his head in disbelief. “Are you kidding? I haven’t fucking done anything. This is all you, Harrington.”

And Steve is laughing softly, really laughing, and he says, “Don’t bullshit—”

And his eyes roll back, the irises suddenly clouded over, and his hand becomes slack in Eddie’s grip.

Eddie has to force himself not to scream, not to jolt back; he thinks he might be sick, and the only thing stopping that outcome is the fact that Steve needs him. He barely counts to three inside his head, remembering Chrissy, how quick it all was, and he’s standing, tripping over his own feet.

“Right, I’m calling it,” he says, his chest tight, “long enough fucking distraction, they’ll already be at the—”

And he stops.

Because the tape deck doesn’t have anything inside. Because, next to it, is the plastic cassette case that was once in Steve’s pocket.

And it’s empty.

He pictures Steve back at his house, distractedly picking it up, focused on reassuring Dustin; Steve not realising his mistake until he had walked into Eddie’s bedroom and gone to put the tape in. Steve going ahead with it anyway, all while knowing…

“No,” Eddie breathes, “no, no, no.” He dives for the case, but the paper sleeve inside is worn beyond all recognition; he has no idea what the song could have been, even what album it came from. He grabs the closest tape he can find, ramming it in, and suddenly thinks Robin’s assessment of his music was more than accurate. Seriously, what is all this shit?

“Come on!” he shouts, and cranks the volume up as far as it will go.

When he turns back around, Steve is already floating.

Eddie can hardly hear over the roar of the music, but he feels the scream tear at his throat; he’s useless, he’s fucking useless, it’s Chrissy all over again—

One leg snaps. He screams again, screams Steve’s name. Then an arm begins to shake, to twist unnaturally at the elbow, and—

And Steve falls. Eddie lunges to catch him, and his heart both leaps and breaks at Steve’s cry of pain. You’re here, you’re here, you’re here.

“Steve, Steve, hey, hey, hey, try not to move,” he says, “you’re okay, you’re okay.”

Steve jerks, then vomits, the bile black with blood.

“All right, that’s fine,” Eddie babbles. “Just a little blood, you’re doing good, you’re—”

His hand brushes Steve’s side, comes away wet. The wounds on his stomach have reopened, as if something else has clawed at them.

“I can’t,” Steve gasps, “I can’t feel you.”

“I’m right here! Hey, Steve? Steve, look at me, I’m right—stop, stop, don’t move, you’re gonna be—”

“Eddie, I don’t want to go,” Steve says, and he’s sobbing, “I don’t want to die, I don’t want to—”

“You’re not dying. You’re not—Steve, Steve, just look at me, stay with me—”

But Steve just shakes in Eddie’s arms, and he throws up again, each breath coming in shallow, desperate gasps.

Fuck, he can’t breathe.

And then, it’s very quiet.

“Steve? Steve.”

Eddie looks down. Steve’s eyes are fixed, glassy. His chest is still.

The trailer splits. Jagged lines in both directions, one from the gate, one from Eddie’s room, burning red. Eddie runs out without consciously thinking about it, holding onto Steve, cradling his head.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” The words are ripped out of his chest, his voice turned into something unrecognisable, so pained that it’s almost rendered inhuman.

He’s gone, Eddie thinks numbly.

His grip on the world fades, awareness only breaking through in fleeting impressions. Nancy and Robin’s faces. Screaming. Nancy saying, “Eddie, you have to let him go—”

He’s gone.

He comes back to himself in a crowded hospital corridor. Robin is reaching for him, and she’s crying, saying his name, but he moves away before she can touch him. He doesn’t deserve her kindness; Steve should be standing here, should be falling into her embrace—

He’s gone.

And then, he’s in a bathroom, thrusting his hands under scorching water. Red and black stains the sink. Blood. Steve’s blood.

The door bangs open. Dustin is standing before him. There are several cuts on his face, and he’s gasping and clutching his side like he ran all the way here. Maybe he did.

“Eddie,” he says, and it’s in that tone, the one Eddie heard when he was trembling in the boathouse, the one that shocked him to his core. Because it sounded like, Yeah, I’m the younger one, so what? I’m still going to protect you.

In hearing that, Eddie knows that he has already been forgiven. Because Dustin’s love is like what Steve’s had been: fierce and unconditional.

Eddie tries to take a breath—it comes out in a ragged, wet exhale. “I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t—I tried—”

And then words fail him completely. He can’t stop the tears once they’ve started; and there, chest heaving with grief, he falls apart in Dustin Henderson’s arms.

#the self sacrificial steve agenda #steddie fic #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #steve and dustin #eddie and dustin

2K notes · View notes