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briefinquiries · 5 months ago

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Tyler Owens x Reader: Chase Your Fears

Prompt: You and your younger brother are roadtripping across the US when you encounter a tornado. Luckily, the tornado wrangler himself shows up to help.

Word count: 11k

Warnings: tornado mention

A/N: Had this cute little idea and suddenly it turned into an 11k monster fic... anyway, i will be obsessed with tyler owens & twisters for the foreseeable future, so please send recs if you want!

“What is that?”

You leaned forward in your seat and peered out the rearview mirror warily. But even with a better view, you still had no idea what you were looking at.

“Seriously,” your little brother gawked from the front seat, body twisted so that he could turn around and see. “What is that?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, knuckles turning white as you tightened your grip on the steering wheel. You kept your eyes trained on the dark clouds swirling behind you. Thankfully, all the roads out here in Oklahoma were so long and straight– otherwise, you probably would have crashed your car.

“Is that a tornado?”

“No–” you began. But even as the words left your mouth, you realized that you actually had no clue. “Well, maybe–”

As soon as you spoke, both of your phones went off– an alert warning you of severe weather in the area.

“It’s a tornado,” your brother exhaled, as he read the alert off his lockscreen. “No wonder the roads were so quiet today– we’re the only idiots dumb enough to be driving through a tornado!”

“We’re not driving through a tornado, technically we’re driving in front of one… Besides, aren’t tornadoes thinner? Like a funnel?” you said, trying desperately to lighten the mood. You thought if you stayed calm, maybe it would keep your brother calm.

“Don’t fat shame the tornado! What do we do?!”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, mouth growing increasingly dry.

“We should call Mom–”

“No, we definitely should not.”

“Why not?” you could hear the panic creeping up in his voice.

“Because,” you said calmly. “Mom’s in New Hampshire– probably crocheting a blanket as we speak. What is she going to do to help us?”

Your brother opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again like he was realizing you were right.

“Calling her is only going to make her panic halfway across the country.”

“We should call Dad then–”

“And what’s dad going to do from Texas?” you challenged.

“Maybe he’ll know what to do– he said they have tornadoes where he lives.”

You frowned. “It’s behind us– we just need to keep driving and keep it behind us.”

“Okay,” your brother said uneasily. When you glanced his way, you saw his hands positioned in his lap, trembling. Instantly, you felt your chest ache. Your parents had the two of you nearly fifteen years apart. And as his big sister, in charge of escorting him across the country so that you could both stay with your dad for the summer, you felt like it was your responsibility to keep him safe.

“I should’ve just flown,” he whimpered. “What was I thinking, doing a road trip through the midwest during tornado season?”

“Hey,” you said, reaching over to grab one of his hands. You had been the one to suggest the two of you drive to Texas together. A few weeks earlier, you had finally quit the job that had made you miserable for the last two years. It had been a long time coming, but with nothing else lined up, you’d been terrified to officially make the jump.

You hated being afraid. Maybe it was stubbornness, maybe it was stupidity– but something inside of you was driven to face your fears. If you’re afraid, do it, you always told yourself.

So that was how you found yourself jobless at nearly twenty-eight. Currently, you were going through a transitional period that your mom liked to call your quarter-life crisis. You’d wanted a distraction– something fun to make you feel adventurous and brave and alive again. Initially, he’d been skeptical of the idea. While the two of you were close, he was cautious about spending the two weeks you’d planned out in a car together. But once you told him about your plans– stopping in New York and detouring to Nashville, he was sold.

Hearing the fact that he regretted his decision made a pool of guilt spread through your insides.

“You were thinking about how awesome it was going to be to spend two whole weeks with your sister on a road trip. I promise I’m not going to let anything happen to you�� We’re okay.”

He nodded slowly, although the look of terror on his face told you he didn’t entirely believe you.

“Did you know they call this area Tornado Alley?” he asked, speech rapid. “Cold air from the Rockies meets damp air from the Gulf of Mexico. It’s like… the perfect recipe for tornadoes.”

You sighed. In the past, you probably would have questioned why your New England-raised brother knew anything about tornadoes. But you’d since learned that his brain quite literally never forgot any shred of knowledge. The kid remembered everything.

“Did you know that thirty percent of the country’s total number of tornadoes is in Tornado Alley? Or at least they have been since the fifties–”

While your fight or flight response was generally more geared towards running, his was fact-spewing.

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, trying not to give away the fact that the tornado in your rearview mirror was seemingly getting closer with every glance you took.

As you pressed your foot harder against the gas, you smiled towards him. “Tell me more. How do tornadoes form?”

“Well…” he began, and then he started talking rapidly about air pressure and moisture and wind speeds and other things you really didn’t understand. Truthfully, you tuned it out– your only focus on getting the two of you somewhere safe.

Your method for calming him down worked– at least until the winds increased. Then a giant chunk of debris came flying at your car, forcing you to swerve quickly.

“What was that?” he yelled, all panic that had previously faded from his voice returned in an instant.

“I don’t know–”

“Oh my God, it’s closer– it’s right behind us!”

“I know,” you said, your own voice raising. Your foot was practically touching the floor, but your car wouldn’t go any faster.

Another piece of debris– this time you recognized it as a piece of a fence, slammed into the side of your car.

“Shit!” your brother screamed. “Shit!”

“We’re okay–” you tried to assure him. “Listen to me, we’re okay– But I think I need to pull the car over.”

“What?!” he practically screamed.

“I know– I know it’s scary, but I don’t think you’re supposed to be in a car if a tornado gets too close.”

“How do you know that?!”

You furrowed your brow. “I think I heard it on the Discovery channel or something–”

“Discovery channel?!”

By now he was frantic, and you knew that you had to stay calm– no matter how panicked you were. But your brother also required plans and he required explanations– so you tried to give them to him.

“Listen to me, I am going to stop the car, and we are going to get out, leave our stuff and run, okay?”

“Run where?”

“Uh,” you stammered. Truthfully, you hadn’t gotten that far yet. You looked around, realizing that your options were incredibly limited. There was an old barn to your left– and while the shelter enticed you, it didn’t look entirely sturdy. Further down there was an actual farm house– maybe they had a storm shelter or a basement. But you had no idea if you’d make it that far.

Suddenly, an entire goddamn tree flew by your car, taking the side mirror with it.

“The farmhouse–” you said. The barn would never stand.

“Can we make it?” your brother asked.

You nodded. “We’ll make it.”

With that, you slammed on your breaks, causing your car to come to a sudden stop.

To your relief, your brother followed your instructions. He launched himself out of the car and hurried around the hood to you. You quickly grabbed his hand before turning to start towards the barn.

But before you could even move more than a few steps, a pair of headlights seemingly came out of nowhere to your right. A red truck screeched to a halt just as a man, clouded by the fog, stuck his head out and shouted, “Get in!”

“What?” you screamed over the wind.

He motioned with his thumb towards his truck. “Get. In!” he emphasized. “Now!”

Before you could hesitate or question anything, instincts kicked in. You shoved your little brother towards the man and his truck. The man had already hopped out and was opening the back door. Once you reached him, he grabbed your brother first. With ease, he lifted him into the truck.

“Buckle up–” he instructed. “See that harness strap? Put that on–” Next he turned to you, “I got gear in the seat back here, it’ll take too long to move– you’ll have to go up front.”

You nodded before hurrying to the passenger side of his truck. Without hesitating, you hoisted open the door– a task that proved to be increasingly challenging based on the wind speeds. It was like the door was suctioned to the body. You gave it a few good pulls, using all your strength, but it wouldn’t open.

You glanced at your brother through the back window and saw his eyes grow wide. He screamed your name before banging on the window– reaching for you.

“It’s okay!” you cried. “I’m okay!” Although you weren’t sure how true that would be a few moments from now.

“Shit,” you said to yourself, jostling the handle. “Shit, shit, shit–”

“It’s okay,” you heard a voice call. The man had turned the corner of the truck bed and was reaching for the door. With one strong pull, he hoisted it open. “There we go, let’s get ya inside–”

You reached up, grabbing the handle on the door while stepping up. You felt a hand on your back give you a gentle nudge as you hoisted yourself the rest of the way inside. Once you were positioned in the seat with the door closed, you watched through the windshield as the man jogged lightly around his car with ease and climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Harness–” the man said, pointing towards the straps behind you before slamming his door shut.

Quickly, you shrugged them over your shoulders and fastened the buckle.

“I can’t–” you heard your brother say from behind you. When you turned in your seat, you saw that he still wasn’t buckled– his straps were tangled.

You moved your hands to your own straps to undo them, but were stopped by the man. “I got him, you stay buckled,” he said before turning to extend his torso into the backseat. “Here we go, buddy,” he said gently. You marveled how, even with a tornado barreling towards you all, the man could remain so gentle and calm. The way he talked to your brother was… well, you couldn't quite find the words for what it was, but you appreciated it. You made a mental note to thank the man for it if you made it out of this alive.

“I can’t do it–” you could hear the panic in your brother’s voice.

“It’s okay,” the man said. “I got you. I’m gonna help. Everything’s okay.”

“The tornado is right there!” he screamed, fear and anguish building in your brother’s throat.

“Try to stay calm,” you said. “We’re okay–”

“We’re NOT okay!”

“It looks closer than it is,” the man soothed. “Look at my face– do I look scared? So there’s no need for you to be scared– I got you, see? Harness is done. You’re all strapped in. Nothin’s gonna get ya.”

Swiftly, the man spun back in his seat, did up his own harness in a few seconds, and then pressed a giant, red button on a stick shift near the center console of his truck. You heard a loud sound– like gears shifting, above the whipping winds outside. And then he leaned back in his seat, checking on the storm in the rearview mirror.

“Are you going to drive?” you asked him, turning to get a look at him for the first time. He had a baseball cap resting backwards on his head and a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was handsome, you realized.

The muscles of his forearms flexed as he reached for the wheel. But instead of driving anywhere, he shook his head.

“What?” you gasped. “It’s coming right for us–”

“I know– we can’t outrun it,” he explained. “So we just have to let it pass. Hang on, we’ll be okay.”

“I thought a vehicle was one of the worst places to be in a tornado–”

“It is,” he replied simply, only making your panic increase. “But we’ll be alright. Trust me.”

You were about to argue, but before you knew it, he shouted, “Hang on!” – Just as the cloud funnel consumed you.

The next seconds or minutes or hours passed in a terrifying blur. With your eyes squeezed shut and hands held over your ears, you still heard everything. You heard winds whipping against the truck, causing it to rock back and forth. You heard your brother scream from the backseat, feeling helpless because there was nothing you could do to help comfort him. You heard the slamming sound of debris– trees, fences, and whatever the hell else as it crashed into you and everything around you. You heard the ringing in your ear– like it was all too much to bear… All the while wondering which blow would be the one to kill you.

And then suddenly, you heard nothing at all. You remained frozen in place for a moment longer, in case this silence was a fluke. But then slowly, things came back into focus. You lowered your arms and opened your eyes to see the man leaned over in his seat, harness already unbuckled, while he gazed at you.

Although laced with concern, his eyes were the prettiest shade of green you’d ever seen. He really was handsome– almost shockingly so. And now, he was mouthing something– like he was trying to talk to you.

Suddenly, his voice came through the fog– soft and gentle. “Are you okay?”

You nodded slowly without actually knowing if that was the case. You’d know if you weren’t, right?

“How–” you said suddenly, turning to look outside. There was debris everywhere– tree limbs and branches, leaves and chunks of housing.

“Nothing hurts? You’re okay?”

You turned back towards him and did a quick body scan– checking in on your body before shaking your head a little more confidently. Then you remembered your brother in the backseat. You turned the best that you could with your harness still on, to glance at him.

“Are you okay?” you asked him.

“Yeah,” you heard his shaky voice ring out. You exhaled a breath of relief.

Careful not to kick you with his boots, the man maneuvered to the backseat with ease.

“Hey buddy,” you heard him say. “You alright back here?”

“I’m okay.”

“Good– you did great. Must’ve held on real tight. Can I help ya with the harness now?”

You started grasping at your own harness. Except, when you moved to adjust the buckles, you realized that your hands were shaking too hard to be of any use. No matter how hard you willed them to steady, they wouldn’t.

You continued to try until the man hopped out of the truck and came around to your side. He hoisted open the door and placed his hands on top of yours– the sudden warmth sending shock waves through your body, causing your head to shoot up.

You were met by his intense gaze for a second time, a sea of sage green took your breath away. You swallowed– realizing how dry your mouth suddenly had become. Although the pair of you were complete strangers, the man’s strong jawline flexed as he gazed at you with what looked like worry.

“We’re okay,” he assured you. “You’re alright. Can I help with the harness?”

You gave him a quick nod before dropping your shaky hand from it. When he was finished, you stripped off your harness straps and turned to hop out of the truck. As soon as you did, you saw his outstretched hand– offering to help. You swallowed the lump in your throat and took it, not trusting yourself or your unsteady legs. As soon as your feet were back on the ground, you released his hand and turned towards your brother.

“Are you okay?” you asked for a second time, a sob prickling the back of your throat. As soon as he nodded yes, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, tugging him against you. Even at twelve years old, he was almost taller than you.

“God, I’m so sorry–” you said.

“What were you guys doing out here?” the man suddenly asked. He stood with his hip popped slightly, his hands resting on the waistband of his jeans. “They’ve been announcing this storm since this mornin’.” His voice wasn’t accusatory, just generally curious.

Keeping your arm around your brother’s shoulders, you turned to face him. “We’re not from here,” you explained. “We were just driving through– we didn’t know it was coming.”

He nodded. “They can sneak up on ya sometimes. Where are y’all from?”

“New Hampshire,” you said.

The man let out a low whistle. “You’re a long way from home.”

“We were driving my dad’s,” your brother piped in. “He lives in Texas.”

“I should’ve paid more attention to the weather,” you admitted, shaking your head. “It was stupid. But thank you…” your voice trailed off, realizing you didn’t know the man’s name.

“Tyler,” he replied, extending his hand for a second time, this time for you to shake.

“Tyler,” you repeated. “Thank you Tyler, for saving us.” You quickly introduced yourself before turning and introducing your brother.

“Hang on. What were you doing out here if they’d been talking about the storm all morning?” your brother asked bluntly.

Just as you were about to give him a look that said don’t question strangers who save our lives, Tyler smiled, flashing his white teeth. “I was chasin’ her,” he said, nodding towards the tornado still spinning in the distance.

“You chase tornadoes?” your brother exclaimed.

Tyler’s grin got wider. “Sure do. That’s why my truck didn’t blow away. I got extra precautions.” Then, like he could see the eagerness in your brother’s face, he smirked. “Wanna see?”

Your brother nodded before breaking away from your embrace and racing back towards the truck– like he’d already forgotten about the tornado that almost killed you both.

“That alright with you?” Tyler asked.

You nodded, head still foggy and body still trembling. “Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, eyeing your shaky hands.

“Oh– yeah,” you said. “Just nerves… We don’t get many tornadoes up in New Hampshire, and we sure as hell don’t chase them.”

“You did good,” Tyler told you. “You stayed calm– kept him calm.”

“Thanks,” you said shyly, feeling stupid that this stranger’s compliment actually meant something to you. Then, you motioned with your thumb over your shoulder. “I’m gonna go check out my car– see how bad it is.”

With that, you left your brother with Tyler, and turned the corner of the hood of his truck, tracing your steps back to where you’d initially abandoned your car. As soon as you entered the clearing, you wished you hadn’t. There, amongst the piles of debris and chaos, was your SUV laying on its side– the front windshield completely smashed, both airbags deployed, and the doors caved in.

“Shit,” you muttered, unable to help the tears forming in your eyes. You were grateful for your brother’s safety, but you knew you couldn’t drive your car like this–

You took a few steadying breaths, reminding yourself that completely falling apart wasn’t going to be helpful. And, despite the part of you trying to avoid this, you knew that you’d have to call your parents.

You turned back towards Tyler’s truck and saw him and your brother laying on the ground– looking at something underneath the bed. That’s when you noticed two, gigantic-looking screws secured into the ground. That must have been the button Tyler pushed right before the tornado had engulfed you.

Your brother looked content for the time being, so you pulled out your phone and dialed your mom first.

She answered after only a couple of rings.

“Hi honey, how are things going?”

“Hi Mom,” you said, voice already shaking. “Don’t panic okay? We’re both alright–”

“What happened?” she said urgently, clearly doing the opposite of what you’d requested.

You sighed– might as well just come right out and say it. “We’re in Oklahoma, and a tornado just hit– like literally hit us.”

“What?” she gasped. You could already imagine her sitting up from her recliner, tossing her ball of yarn or whatever she was using to the side.

“Yeah– Some guy came and helped us. We were able to wait it out…” you paused, like you still couldn’t entirely believe what had just happened to you. “But I can’t drive my car.”

“Oh my God,” she breathed. “Are you sure you’re alright? Where’s your brother?”

“We’re fine, Mom. The guy who helped us is still here– he’s showing him stuff in his truck to keep him busy.”

“Who is this guy?”

“Just some local– we got lucky, he knew exactly what to do.”

You heard her exhale a sharp breath.

“Mom, I don’t know what to do– We’re stranded here.”

“Oh, honey,” she sighed. “I should have never let you take him in a car. You should have just flown. Gosh, you both could’ve been killed.”

The pool of guilt grew larger inside your chest.

“I know–” you said, feeling defeated. Because she was right– what the hell were you thinking?

After a moment of silence, she sighed. “I’m so glad you’re alright. Why don’t you call your father– see how far he is? Maybe he can come and pick you up. If he can’t, call me back and we’ll figure something out..”

“Okay,” you said, voice thick with the tears you were trying not to shed.

“I love you,” she assured you.

“Love you, too. I’ll talk to you later.”

With that, you hung up the phone, just as a few tears splashed down your cheeks.

After wiping them away, you glanced back towards Tyler and your brother. Tyler was helping your brother into the truck bed, where he had a bunch of gear strapped down. Your brother had a look of pure excitement plastered on his face as he looked around. You were far enough away so that you couldn’t make out what they were saying, but you could see your brother’s lips moving rapidly, totally skipping the shy-stage he normally went through when he met new people.

Like he could tell you were staring, Tyler looked up and caught your eye. Even from this distance, you saw the way his lips curled into a smile that made something in your stomach flutter. He gave you a quick wave before turning his attention back towards your brother.

Realizing your brother was in seemingly good hands, you knew you couldn’t stall calling your dad any longer. So, you pulled up his contact and dialed, preparing to give the same explanation to him as you did your mom.

“Hey kiddo!” He answered. “How’s the road trip going?”

You were nearly twenty-eight years old, but your dad still answered the phone the same way he did when you were ten.

“Hey dad,” you said. To your dismay, no matter how hard you fought it, your voice still cracked.

“Everything okay?” he asked, instantly picking up on the fact that something was wrong.

You bit your lip, fighting back tears. When you felt composed enough, you spoke. “No,” you admitted. “We’re in Oklahoma, and we got hit by a tornado while we were driving– We’re both safe, but my car is totaled– I can’t drive it.”

“Oh my God, what?” he gasped.

“I don’t know what happened– it was all so fast. I couldn’t outrun it– I tried. But there wasn’t anything we could do– it was moving so quickly and–”

“Okay, breathe,” your dad interrupted, his voice calm.

You were breathing, weren’t you? Except, when you went to inhale, you realized that no, you were not. You sucked in a breath before letting out a choppy exhale.

“Good– everything’s going to be okay. It’s just a car. They can be replaced. You’re safe, your brother is safe– that’s what’s important.”

“We’re stranded– in the middle of nowhere.”

“Well that’s all of Oklahoma, honey. Do you know what town you’re in?”

“No, but I can find out,” you said shakily. After wiping your wet cheeks the best you could, you made your way back towards the truck.

“Tyler,” you said, catching his attention. “What town are we in? My dad wants to know.”

“You’re talking to Dad?” your brother piped in. “Tell him I said hi.”

“We’re near Stillwater,” Tyler replied.

You repeated it back to your dad.

“Okay, who’s there helping you?”

“Uh this guy–” you said, turning away before Tyler could overhear. “He saved us.”

“Well I’m glad to hear that. Sounds like he was in the right place at the right time. Stillwater is about six hours north of me. How about I put you guys up in a hotel for a night then I come and get you tomorrow and we can figure everything else out?”

“Hotels are a lot… you don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but it’s going to get dark before too long, and I don’t want to be driving late. I just want you both safe until then. Why don’t you see if that guy who helped you knows a place?”

“Yeah, okay,” you said, pulling the phone back again. “Hey Tyler?” you turned to see him in the same spot– still showing your brother various gadgets and gear. “Do you know of any hotels or anything nearby? I can’t drive my car– and our dad can’t get us until tomorrow.”

Tyler sucked in a breath of air. “Yikes, there ain’t much around here. Unless you want to bunk at the motel off Broadway street. I think it’s up to a 1.8 star review on Yelp, but last I knew they had a cockroach problem.”

You grimaced. “What about buses or anything that we could take to Austin?”

“You know,” Tyler began, eyes flickering into the distance before looking back at you. “I got a big ole’ farm house not too far from here with a couple of extra bedrooms. Why don’t you both just stay the night and your dad can get you from there in the mornin’?”

You immediately began shaking your head. “No–”

But your dad’s voice on the phone caught you off guard. “Let me talk to him.”

“Dad–” you protested.

But he insisted.

So, begrudgingly, that was how you found yourself passing your cell phone to Tyler.

Tyler’s eyebrow raised gently at the gesture.

“He wants to talk to you,” you explained.

Tyler pointed to himself, as if he was questioning if you meant your brother instead. “Me?”

You nodded.

Tyler reached his arm out skeptically, taking your phone, then pressed it to his ear. “Uh, hello?”

You couldn’t hear your father’s voice on the other end– just mumbling.

“Yes sir– No, that’s not necessary, I was happy to do it–” There was a brief pause. “Yes sir. Cockroaches yeah, you heard that right. I do. Right in town actually. It’s not a problem, I have the space–” Another pause. “Of course, I can send my contact info, and the address.”

You shut your eyes– as if your father was coordinating a sleepover at Tyler’s right now. It’s not like you weren’t grateful for his offer, but you felt like he’d already helped too much. First he saved your lives, now he offers shelter?

“Alright. Alright, you too. Take care.”

With that, Tyler passed you your phone back.

“Go with him,” your dad said, as soon as you held it back against your ear.

“Dad–”

“It’s one night,” he insisted. “It’s either him or the cockroaches.”

…

Less than thirty minutes later, Tyler was pulling his truck down a long, dirt driveway. Positioned at the end of it, set back with the setting sun as a backdrop, was an old, white farmhouse with a wrap around porch and blue shutters.

“You live here?” you asked in awe.

Tyler smiled. “Been in my family for a long time.”

“It’s beautiful,” you said, eyes now scanning the amount of land he had. There was a wheat field to the right, and to the left was a sturdy-looking barn with an exterior that matched the house.

“Technically it belongs to my aunt. But she’s living it up in Tulsa right now, so I stay here– maintain the place for her. It’ll be mine one day.”

“Do you have horses?” your brother asked from the backseat.

Tyler’s grin stretched the length of his face. “Sure do. Let’s get you guys cleaned up and fed, then we can see them later.”

Tyler unloaded the suitcases you’d recovered from your SUV and carried them inside for you, despite your protests. You were quickly learning that Tyler was a gentleman– always holding doors and offering his hand to help. Each time he went out of his way to help you, it caused strange feelings to stir up inside of you– ones that you had no business feeling about a man you’d just met.

The interior of the farmhouse was just as beautiful as the outside. Tyler showed you around the first floor, pointing out the kitchen, bathroom, and living room before walking your luggage up the stairs to where the bedrooms and second bathroom were.

“Both rooms have double beds– there’s only a shower, it’s in the bathroom up here. But feel free to use it. Towels and washcloths are in that closet there– extra blankets are in the chests at the end of the beds.”

“Thank you,” you said again, finally taking your luggage from him. “This is…” you shook your head. “You’ve been really kind, thank you.”

“My pleasure– only the best for my first New Hampshire guests,” he said cheekily. Then, Tyler clasped his hands together. “Alright, well I’ll leave you guys to it. Come on down whenever you’re ready, I’ll whip up something to eat. Y’all like burgers?”

Your brother’s face lit up. “Love them!”

“Sounds great,” you replied.

“Coupla’ burgers comin’ right up then,” Tyler smirked.

“He’s so cool,” your brother muttered before grabbing his bag and heading off to claim a bedroom.

Cool was one word for him, you thought.

…

You took longer in the shower than expected. Probably because every time you closed your eyes to rinse the shampoo out of your hair, all you could see was that goddamn tornado barreling towards you. Each and every time, it made your entire body lurch– causing you to snap open your eyes with a sense of urgency.

Even though you were just showering– it felt like you were outside running… your breath was choppy and your heart was racing just standing there.

You forced yourself to unclench your jaw, worried that your molars were going to crack with how tense you were. Eventually, you gave up and decided to just keep your eyes open while you rinsed your hair out.

When you were finished, you threw on a pair of sweats and an old T-shirt from your suitcase before heading downstairs to join your brother and Tyler. You could smell the burgers before you even got to the kitchen, making your mouth water.

“There’s New Hampshire,” Tyler grinned, seemingly proud of the nickname he’d given you. He was behind the island, setting a steaming pot down on a cooling plate next to a few empty plates stacked on top of each other.

Your brother sat on a stool at the island– his hair still damp from his own shower, nibbling on a piece of plain white bread while he watched Tyler maneuver around the kitchen.

“Do you need any help?” you asked. As soon as you spoke, you could hear the shakiness in your tone. You’d been trying to ignore how tight your chest still felt, but you’d have to do better at hiding it if you wanted to evade detection.

You didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on you for a moment before Tyler shook his head. “Nah, I’m almost done. I got burgers on the grill, some corn, and leftover pasta salad from my mom– you gotta try it.”

He handed you and your brother each an empty plate before taking the lid off the corn pot.

“I’ll go grab the burgers, but help yourself.”

With that, he was disappearing out the back door.

“How’re you doing?” you asked your brother once you were alone.

“Hungry,” he said as he piled a mound of pasta salad on his plate.

You reached over and ran your hands through his hair before shaking his head lightly. “I don’t mean that– I mean how’re you doing after everything today? That was a lot.”

Or at least it had been for you…

Your brother shrugged. “It was scary, but I’m okay now. Statistically speaking tornadoes never strike the same place twice. So that one’s gone for good. And Tyler said the likelihood of another one hitting the area is extremely low.”

“That’s right,” Tyler said, as he reentered the kitchen with a plate stacked full of burgers.

You watched him move through the kitchen with ease, pleasantly surprised by the fact that he’d obviously helped to reassure your brother.

“You want one or two burgers?” Tyler asked him.

Your brother held up two fingers with one hand and his plate with the other.

“What do you say?” you mumbled, nudging him in the side.

“Please,” he said, flashing his teeth.

“You got it,” Tyler chuckled.

With a full plate, your brother headed for the dining room, leaving you and Tyler alone in the kitchen.

“How are you doing?” Tyler asked as he passed you the plate of burgers.

“Me?” you said, trying your best to sound casual. Apparently you were the only one even remotely freaked out by the fact that a tornado had almost killed all of you today. “Oh, I’m alright. Much better after showering– thank you again.”

“You gotta stop thanking me, really it’s not a problem. I wouldn’t have offered if it was,” How are you really doing though?”

You glanced up, surprised to see Tyler’s concerned gaze fixated on you. He’d ditched the baseball hat, allowing you to see his sandy brown hair for the first time. It was slightly disheveled, but so soft. The way it was pushed back from his face made it look like Tyler had been running his fingers through it– a sight you wouldn’t mind seeing.

Quickly, you averted your gaze back to your plate. “I’m fine.”

“Really?” he challenged you. “Because it’s okay not to be okay after getting hit by a tornado– especially for the first time.”

It was like he could sense how anxious you really were– like one of those emotional support animals. Or maybe you just didn’t have the poker face you thought you did.

“I was just worried for my brother,” you said, taking a spoonful of pasta salad. “But it seems like you managed to calm his nerves.”

“Yeah, well, kids are all the same. They just need reassurance. They wanna feel safe.”

Now was your chance to poke a little deeper– to shift the conversation off from you, but also to learn something about Tyler. “Do you have kids?” you asked, trying to make the question sound casual.

“No,” he answered quickly. “Got a niece and a nephew though. They live in Texas, so I don’t get to see them as much as I’d like. Do you?” Tyler asked, glancing over. When he caught your confused expression, he added, “Have kids?”

“Oh, no,” you said, shaking your head. “God, no. You saw what happened today– I have my brother for less than two weeks and I almost got him killed. Imagine if I had an actual child?”

“You didn’t almost get him killed,” Tyler refuted. “You had no way of knowing that thing was comin’.”

“You knew it was coming,” you challenged.

Tyler shrugged. “Well that’s ‘cause I’m a professional.”

“I didn’t know you could be a professional tornado-chaser,” you said teasingly, finally picking up your plate to head to the table.

Tyler followed close behind, choosing a seat across from you and your brother. “I prefer the name tornado wrangler, myself.”

“Tornado wrangler?” you repeated skeptically.

“That’s right,” he smirked, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

“You’re such a badass,” your brother said between bites. He was already halfway done his food. You felt another pang of guilt– he really was hungry.

“So what does a tornado wrangler do exactly?” you asked.

Tyler chewed his food for a moment before answering. “Well, we have a YouTube channel. And we livestream videos of us headin’ into storms. We offer our viewers a close look at the tornadoes– a view most of them will never see in real life.”

“We? You mean there’s more than just one of you crazy enough to chase those things?”

Tyler’s face was full-on beaming now, and you could tell just how passionate he really was about all of this. Even if it scared the absolute shit out of you– you loved to hear him talk about it.

“I got a whole team– there’s Boone, he’s my buddy behind the camera, he takes care of the livestream and the editing when we need it. Then I got Lilly, she operates our drone. That helps give us alternative coverage and vantage points when we need it. Dexter and Dani both help with storm tracking– but Dani also helps fix the gear and stuff when we need it.”

“What’s the scariest tornado you’ve ever seen?” your brother asked, pieces of burger flying out of his mouth while he spoke.

“Chew your food before talking,” you said under your breath.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Tyler let out a soft chuckle, his eyes flickering to yours before turning back to your brother. “I think the scariest tornado I’ve ever seen was when I was about your age– My mom and I got caught up in an EF 4 while we were drivin’. It picked us right up– dropped us in a field about half a mile away.”

“EF 4?” you asked cluelessly.

“It’s the Enhanced Fujita Scale,” your brother replied. “It measures the tornado's speed and estimated damage.”

“That’s right,” Tyler smiled, like he was proud of your brother for knowing. “They measure on a scale of 0-5.”

“What was the one that hit us today?” you asked warily.

“Today was an EF1,” Tyler answered.

All the blood drained from your face. “A one?” you gaped.

In the midst of taking a bite of corn, he nodded.

“You’re telling me that thing could have been worse?”

The corner of Tyler’s lip twitched upwards. “A lot worse,” he said grimly. “That’s why it was safe to stay in my truck. We drive her into zero’s and one’s all the time, she handles a two pretty good. Even managed a three once.”

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath.

The rest of the evening consisted of your brother bombarding Tyler with questions about his job– how many tornadoes had he seen? What was an EF5 like? Had he ever seen a cow fly through the air like in the movies?

But you had a hard time listening after a while– each additional fact you learned about tornadoes made your skin crawl. Your heart rate had picked up again– similar to how it was in the shower. It was taking all of your energy to just appear normal while you picked at the remaining food on your plate.

Why would anyone willing chase one of those things? What you witnessed today was one of the smallest possible tornadoes– and it was still terrifying. You couldn’t imagine if you’d been out there faced by something worse.

Their conversation eventually became muffled background noise, something that nestled in the back of your mind while you tried to focus on your breath and willed yourself not to shake.

That is, until you feel something boney jab in your side, making everything come back into focus again.

“What?” you asked, turning cluelessly towards your brother.

“Tyler asked if you were done,” he said, nodding towards your plate.

“Oh–” you said, embarrassed. That’s when you noticed Tyler was now standing, arm extended like he was reaching for your dish. “Yeah– yeah, I’m done.”

He moved to collect your plate for you but you stopped him. “No, I’ll get these– you guys talk.”

“You sure?” he asked warily.

“Yeah, I’m sure– You cook and house us, I can do some dishes.”

With a brief, unconvincing smile, you quickly gathered as much as you could in your arms and fled into the kitchen for some space.

What the hell was wrong with you? It was like you couldn’t catch your breath, no matter how hard you tried.

As you scrubbed at the dishes, arms extended under warm water, you tried desperately to get it together. No one had died– no one had even gotten hurt. Plus, like Tyler had told your brother– the probability of this happening again was incredibly slim. So why couldn’t you stop feeling like that EF1 was consuming you?

By the time you were finished with the dishes, your hands were shaking so bad, you could barely set them on the drying rack. So, you snapped off the water and leaned against the counter, gripping the lip of it tightly and taking some deep breaths. Vaguely, you heard your little brother’s laughter from the other room. You latched onto the sound and tried to let it soothe you.

Everyone was okay.

He’s laughing– he’s having fun. You’re all okay.

After his laughter stills, you hear the sound of chair legs sliding across the floor. “I’m gonna go grab some water, you want any dessert, big guy? I got ice cream.”

“No thanks, I’m full from the burgers.”

Tyler chuckled. “Alright, be right back.”

Quickly, you swallowed the lump in your throat and started putting the condiments away, trying to look as normal as possible before Tyler approached.

“Thanks for doing all of those,” Tyler said once he got to the kitchen. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh, it’s the least I could do,” you said, turning to face him.

“My mom would kill me if she knew I let my guest do the dishes.”

“My mom would kill me if she knew I let someone save, cook, and house me without me doing the dishes.”

Tyler grinned. “Fair enough, New Hampshire.”

“You keep calling me that,” you said. “But I don’t actually live in New Hampshire, you know?”

Tyler’s eyebrow curled up in an expression that said tell me more.

“My mom and brother live there. I used to live there. But now I have an apartment in Boston, been there since college.”

“Boston?” Tyler repeated. “Ah, so you’re like a nine-to-five city girl.”

You frowned. “Not anymore,” you admitted. “It was killing me. Especially in the winter– you go to work before the sun’s up, and you’re out after it sets. I couldn’t do it anymore, so I recently quit.”

“What’re you gonna do now?” he inquired.

You shrugged. “I’m trying to figure that out. Probably move somewhere with less concrete, and hopefully find a job that lets me out before the sun sets.”

Tyler set his glass of water on the kitchen island. “So what you’re saying is I can’t call you New Hampshire or Boston?”

“You got a problem with just using people’s names?”

Tyler shrugged. “I like nicknames. Shows that someone’s special to ya.”

You felt like your feet had been knocked out from underneath you. You cleared your throat before looking away, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“You know, I don’t mean to pry,” Tyler said, changing the subject. “But are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly.

“I just– at dinner you seemed a little zoned out.”

“I’m just tired,” you lied.

Tyler paused, eyes scanning you sincerely. His gaze felt like it could set you on fire– like every inch of your skin was set ablaze. Ultimately, he decided to back off. “Okay then,” he said. “I’ll finish up here, why don’t you guys get settled for bed? It’s been a long day.”

“Okay– yeah, that’s a good idea.”

Pushing off the counter, you brushed past him, pausing only when you got to the doorframe.

“Tyler?”

He spun around quickly.

“I know you said to stop thanking you but seriously… Thank you. For everything.”

His lips curled upwards in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes the way you’d already learned you liked. He gave a curt nod. “I’m happy to do it, New Hampshire,” he said, sticking with his original nickname.

You made your way upstairs to bed with your little brother and a stupid smile plastered on your face.

…

“We have to move!” you shouted, hoping your brother could hear you above the wind.

But instead of reacting or doing anything at all, he just stood there– his back towards you while he stared at the swirling clouds in the distance.

“Hey!” you screamed. “We gotta go!”

You took a step forward– but weren’t any closer to him.

Frowning, you took another step– then another. But the distance remained the same. Screaming his name, you pleaded with him to turn around. If he didn’t move, you were both going to die– the tornado had touched down. It was barrelling right for you. It was sucking roofs off houses, and breaking fences into tiny pieces. Debris flew all around at what seemed like a hundred miles per hour– shards of glass, pieces of plywood. Something was going to hit you– or worse, your brother.

You were running now, trying desperately to reach him. If you could just get there in time, maybe you could grab his arm and pull him away in time.

But it was no use– you were too slow. And the tornado was so fast. Right before your eyes– you saw your brother get sucked into the funnel– his entire frame flying up in the air.

You screamed–

He screamed back– you heard your name echo through the storm.

He was calling for you– begging for you to save him.

You screamed louder–

Then you heard a voice yell. Except, this voice didn’t match your brothers—it was too deep and less familiar. Your body tensed as you were jostled.

With force, your eyes finally snapped open, revealing the vaguely familiar room around you. The moonlight poured through the curtain that you forgot to close and revealed Tyler’s worried-looking face peering over her. His green eyes were blown open and wide, his lips slightly parted as his gaze raked over the length of you.

“Tyler–” you croaked.

“There you are,” he exhaled. “You’re okay, you’re at my house– you’re safe.”

You opened your mouth, instantly trying to think of a way to brush this whole thing off– maybe make a joke or something to ease the tension. But instead of finding words, a choppy, uneven huff of air poured out of you. You tried again, but this time all you could do was desperately gasp– like you couldn’t get enough air in your lungs.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tyler said. You felt the bed dip as he sat down beside you. Without even thinking, you reached out for him– fingers clasping onto the fabric of his white t-shirt. He placed his hands on top of yours and gave them a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“Baby, you’re okay,” he said. If you could breathe, you might have melted at the pet name he gave you. Instead, your wild eyes searched his desperately. “I got you. Breathe with me– look.” Tyler took a couple of deep breaths, exaggerating the act so that you’d copy him. You tried, but ended up just choking harder.

“Just do it with me.”

With an intense amount of concentration, you were finally able to latch onto the sound of Tyler breathing. In, hold, out. In, hold, out.

“There you go,” he soothed. “You got it.”

You’re not sure how long the two of you stayed like that– but eventually, your breathing returned to normal.

That’s when the embarrassment kicked in. Because how utterly mortifying to be a guest at someone’s home and to wake them up screaming because of some stupid nightmare.

“I’m so–”

“Don’t even think about apologizing,” Tyler said gently. “You got nothing to be sorry for.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but then realized there was no point. Tyler would just refute whatever you said. So instead, you asked the question that had been burning in your brain since you got to the farm house.

“Why am I so affected by this and no one else is? What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” Tyler assured you instantly. “In fact, you’re probably the only normal one in this house– most people get freaked out after bein’ near a tornado, much less in the middle of one. I have this weird thing goin’ on where I just feel more alive if my life’s in danger, and no offense but I think your brother’s brain might be wired a little differently than most.”

You let out a genuine laugh– the first of the night. “He’s on the spectrum,” you explained. “You’re really good with him, you know? Most people just think he’s odd and ignore him. But not you– you actually talk to him.”

Tyler smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he did. “He’s a good kid.”

You nodded in agreement. “You know he didn’t even want to come on this road trip with me? He wanted to fly to my dad’s– but I talked him into it. I’ve felt so lost since quitting my job and I needed a distraction. I used my little brother as a distraction.”

“Wanting to spend time with someone doesn’t mean you’re using them. It seems like he’s having a good time,” Tyler said. “He told me all about the Titanic museum you took him to in Nashville.”

You chuckled. “He loves disasters. It’s kind of his thing. That’s why he knows so much about tornadoes–”

“And today he got to see one– up close. I bet he’ll tell that story for the rest of his life.”

“The story about how his older sister almost got him killed,” you said, head hanging with shame.

“The story of how his big sister stayed so incredibly calm, even though she was terrified– just so that she could make sure he was okay. The big sister who kept him safe even though they got caught in a tornado.”

You glanced up towards Tyler to see him looking at you with what looked like yearning in his expression. You wanted to just lean forward and wrap your arms around his neck– let him hold you and comfort you and tell you that everything was going to be alright. You couldn’t know for sure but he just looked like he gave the best hugs. Instead though, you tried to come to your senses. You blinked harshly, and glanced down at the blankets pooled in your lap.

“I hate being afraid,” you admitted. “I know it’s normal– and it keeps us safe. But it makes me feel weak.”

“I get it,” Tyler replied. “That’s why I started the channel. I was sick of being afraid of ‘em, so I decided to chase ‘em instead.”

“Yeah, well maybe I’ll have to tag along with your team on the next one,” you joked.

Tyler’s face lit up. “You could, you know. We go all the time– and it’s tornado season in Oklahoma so we probably wouldn't have to wait that long to find one.”

He couldn’t possibly be serious– but the look on his face told you that he was.

“My dad’s getting us tomorrow,” you reminded him.

All the excitement on Tyler’s face fell– making something inside of you fall with it. “Right,” he said, shaking his head. “Of course, yeah.”

“But maybe I’ll tune into your channel,” you offered, hoping to get even a hint of that excitement back. You hated seeing him disappointed.

Tyler smiled, “You better,” he teased, nudging your leg through the blanket. “Hey, I don’t know about you, but I’m probably not going to get much sleep tonight. You want some tea or somethin’?”

You couldn’t help but nod– it was hard to say no to him.

…

You and Tyler ended up talking through most of the night. The more you talked, the more you realized he was someone you could really see yourself falling for. He made you laugh– and not the fake kind you did to avoid hurting someone’s feelings, either. On several occasions, he had you curled over, shaking with laughter because of something he said. And he was a good listener– always asking follow-up questions or inquiring more.

Before you knew it, six entire hours had passed and the sun was rising on the east side of the barn, shining golden light through the gaps in the curtains.

You had found yourself curled up in the living room, back pressed against the arm of the couch and facing Tyler. He shifted in his seat, and, without thinking, you tucked your feet underneath his thigh, causing him to hiss.

“Your feet are freezing,” he gasped playfully, but he didn't pull away.

You laughed in response, digging them further underneath his legs.

“I can feel them through my pants,” he said, laughing with you.

“It’s morning,” you observed, unable to believe that you spent an entire night talking to him.

He bit his lip and nodded. “Time flies.” He chuckled lightly before standing up from the couch, leaving your feet feeling cold again, and walking into the adjoined kitchen. You followed him awkwardly, just a step or two behind. You watch as he retrieved two mugs from a tall cabinet and placed them on the countertop.

“Coffee?” he asked, nonchalantly, holding the cup up as an offering.

You sighed a breath of relief at the thought of coffee– especially after only an hour or two of sleep. “Yes. Please.”

Tyler rummaged around the kitchen for a few minutes, putting the coffee on before peering into the fridge. He pulled some items out, placing them gently on the counter behind him. His back was turned towards you for the most part, and you couldn’t help but watch him as he moved. It was a nice view, you thought.

“Do you like eggs?” Tyler’s words interrupted your staring. “I have some bacon, too.”

“You’re making breakfast?” You asked, your tone sounding sharper than intended through your disbelief. First saving your life, then dinner, then a place to sleep, then comforting you during a nightmare, now breakfast…

Tyler nodded, “I’m a breakfast guy. Unless you’re not hungry,” he said, backtracking quickly. “I just thought–”

You could sense the panic in his voice, almost as if he was just as nervous as you. You quickly spoke up to reassure him. “No- I love breakfast. I just wasn’t expecting any, is all.”

Tyler subtly exhaled a breath of relief. “Yeah well, be sure to give me a five star review. I’m competing with the cockroach motel for business. Scrambled okay?” he asked, motioning towards the eggs.

You nodded before taking a seat at the island.

Tyler continued to work with his back to you, arms moving a bit as he scrambled the eggs that were cooking in the pan. When he was finished, he pulled out three plates and portioned some into each. Then he moved to throw the toast and sausage he’d also made on top.

Because your brother wasn’t up yet, Tyler set a paper towel over his plate, preserving it for now before traveling to your side of the island and taking a seat right beside you.

The two of you ate breakfast, your conversation never faltering. You talked about school– what you studied, who your roommates were. You talked about jobs and family– one conversation just naturally progressing to the next.

After about half an hour, your brother staggered downstairs– his hair poking out in all directions informing you that he slept “like a baby.” Tyler listened to him talk about his dream– something about robots chasing tornadoes. Tyler asked him follow up questions, too– like what kind of robots they were and what kind of truck they used to chase the tornadoes.

Tyler was kind of beautiful, you found yourself quickly realizing. Not that you hadn’t noticed how attractive he was before– of course you had… Practically the first moment you laid your eyes on him after your life was in danger. But Tyler smiled this giant smile as he let your brother talk his ear off about stuff you knew he couldn’t possibly care about. But he pretended to– and his eyes got crinkly and his laugh came straight from his belly.

You supposed you could blame your fluttering stomach on the adrenaline still coursing through your system after being attacked by a tornado and then having a panic attack last night. Your skin felt electrified. But you knew that the trauma you’d endured had nothing to do with it. You knew it could only be Tyler that was making you feel this way. And you’d only known the man for about sixteen hours by now, but you couldn’t deny what you already felt for him.

It felt easy with Tyler. And although you spent the night before pretending you were fine– you realized that you didn’t have to. He was someone you could just be authentic with.

Your dad reached out to you shortly after seven, informing you he was on the road and would be in Stillwater just around noon.

You found yourself dreading having to say goodbye to Tyler before the moment even came.

In the meantime, he took the time to show your brother the horses, letting him spend as much time with them as he wanted. Then he gave him a full tour of the barn– chickens and cows alike.

You were outside, watching your brother be brave enough to approach one of the horses that Tyler had ensured was friendly when his phone went off beside you.

Tyler pulled it from his pocket and checked the caller ID before sliding his thumb across the screen.

“Hey Boone,” he answered. “No, I haven’t looked yet. Why? Oh is it? Where?”

You tried not to eavesdrop, but you really couldn’t help it.

“What time are they thinking? Yeah, no. I’m busy until noon. Three’s perfect. Alright– see you then, bye.”

He slid his phone back in his pocket with ease, his attention falling to you.

“Another tornado?” you asked, eyebrows raised skeptically.

He smirked. “Can’t stop weather, New Hampshire. Invite’s still there if you wanna tag along.”

…

Despite how badly you wanted time to stretch on forever, your father’s truck rode into the driveway just before after noon.

Tyler took all your luggage downstairs and loaded it into the truck while the three of you reunited. You met your dad halfway between his car and the porch, letting him pull you in for a tight hug.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” he murmured into your hair before reaching for your brother. When he was done embracing you both, he held his hand out towards Tyler.

“Thank you, son,” he said genuinely. “For being there for them.”

“My pleasure, sir,” Tyler replied, shaking his hand firmly.

To your surprise, after everything was loaded in the car, your brother ran right up to Tyler and wrapped his arms around his waist– offering him a hug. Your brother rarely showed affection to those within his family– let alone people outside of it. In your eyes, that was further evidence of how special Tyler really was.

Tyler hugged him back before ruffling his hair affectionately. “Take care, bud. Thanks for helpin’ me with the horses today. You gonna come back and visit soon?”

He nodded eagerly– to your delight, the pair had exchanged numbers.

“Alright c’mon,” your dad said, ushering your brother to the car and leaving you and Tyler alone.

“What about you?” Tyler asked, taking a step closer to you. “Are you gonna come back and visit soon?”

Your entire insides erupted– like molten lava was encasing everything inside of you. You could smell the aftershave he’d splashed on his neck and wanted nothing more than for it to just engulf you entirely. “That depends,” you said, standing your ground as he took another step forward.

“On what?” he asked gently, reaching across the small space between you to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. It was a simple, yet incredibly intimate action that made your knees feel wobbly.

“Are you going to drive me into the middle of a tornado?”

“I might.”

You smirked. “Well then, I guess I might come back.”

“Lord help me if you do, New Hampshire.”

You knew your dad was right behind you– but you couldn’t help but wish Tyler would kiss you right then and there– prove to you that he felt the same things you were feeling. Then maybe you could leave behind your dad and brother and stay a little longer with Tyler. But that was too big of a risk without the confirmation. You looked at him eagerly, willing him to say something.

“So I guess I’ll see ya around,” he said, making your shoulders fall.

It felt so final.

“See ya around,” you replied, hating to admit how disappointed you actually felt. You offered him one final smile before turning around and jogging back towards your dad’s truck.

…

“You’re an idiot,” your brother said from the backseat, catching you off guard.

“Excuse me?” you said, turning to face him.

“Why didn’t you stay? I heard Tyler invite you like three times.”

You frowned. “He didn’t mean it. He was just being nice.”

“I don’t think Tyler says things he doesn’t mean,” he said simply.

You heard your dad let out a choked laugh from beside you.

“I can’t just stay at Tyler’s house–” you said. “That’s crazy. We’re going back to Texas.”

“Actually, I already drove six hours today,” your dad said. “I really don’t want to drive another six, so I was planning on grabbing a hotel. We could just pick you up later,” he suggested.

“Or not,” your brother piped in.

You bit your lip– and really considered the possibility of taking Tyler up on his offer. But that was crazy– you barely knew him. What if he didn’t really mean it– what if he was just trying to be nice?

“I think you’re just afraid,” your brother said.

“Afraid?” you said with disbelief. “Of what?”

“Tornadoes, rejection, love… you name it.”

God, you hated being afraid.

…

Tyler watched as your dad’s truck got smaller as it drove further away. He kicked himself for not trying harder, for not doing more to convince you to stay. He knew he couldn’t force you, and the last thing he wanted to be was too pushy, but damn he wished you’d taken the bait.

He could’ve kissed you– God, he wanted to. But your dad’s gaze was lingering warily and he just couldn’t take the chance. What if you pulled away? What if you were insulted? What if he’d read all these signs totally wrong?

He’d never felt anything like how he felt around you. And he just knew that the sound of your laugh would hold a spot in his heart forever.

But maybe this was how your story was supposed to end– like a tornado. No matter how badly he wanted it to last forever, eventually they all fizzled out to blue skies.

Full of self-pity, Tyler was just about to turn and head back into the house when he saw the brake lights of your dad’s truck turn on. In the distance, he watched as you climbed carefully out of the front seat, hoist open the back door, and haul your luggage out.

His heart fluttered at the sight. But when he saw you grab your bag and start jogging back towards him like you had a purpose, he felt like his chest might explode.

You wanted to stay–

With a newfound confidence, Tyler began running towards you, kicking up dirt and rocks as he went.

When he reached you– just past the mailbox in the road, you offered him a small smile.

“You came back,” he observed.

You shrugged your shoulders, slightly out of breath. “I did.”

“Why?” he dared to ask.

You paused, like you were really thinking about his question. After a moment, you said, “I think the one thing that scares me more than tornadoes right now is you,” you admitted to him. “And I really hate being afraid.”

Tyler was pleasantly surprised when you started stepping forward. He matched your efforts and soon– you were almost chest to chest. He glanced down at you with awe.

“Some cocky YouTube star once told me that you should chase your fears,” you said breathlessly.

Tyler couldn't contain the smile that was spreading across his entire face. “He sounds like a really smart guy, you should introduce me–”

“Will you shut up and please just kiss–”

Before you could even get the words out, Tyler reacted the way his body wanted him to. Firmly but gently, he cupped your jaw with one hand, the other arm curling around your back.

And then, right there on the lone dirt road that always had a way of feeling like home, he kissed you with everything he had.

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

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gutsby · 8 months ago

Text

Love Tap

Pairing: Dad!Joel x Reader

Summary: Old habits die hard with your husband—touching you at inappropriate times is one of them.

Warnings: 18+. Joel Miller is a MUNCH Oral (f!receiving). Unprotected p-in-v (quickie). Slice of life, domestic-style and Joel calls you ‘Mama’ a whole lot. One playful bite.

Word count: 2.4k

Note: ‘You better back the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck up’ is a line from 2Pac’s song, ‘Hit ‘Em Up.’

Joel Miller was a wonderful father.

Occasionally, he forgot how to act like one.

He had a tendency to get a little careless. Sloppy.

Letting the dignified, ever-respectful façade slip every now and again and smacking your ass when you walked past. Copping a feel when you had to squeeze by him in the kitchen. Best of all, pinching your cheek through your skirt while you were cradling the baby—his baby—and leaving you no choice but to shoot him a quick back-the-fuck-up-before-you-get-smacked-the-fuck-up look and a covert middle finger to remind him that he wasn’t supposed to be slapping your butt in front of the kids.

It was just bad practice to engage in those dumb, flirty antics, particularly when your four-year-old son had made it his mission in life to imitate everything dad did.

But again, Joel would sometimes forget that.

On a morning when he’d woken up a little too early with an erection that was a tad too stubborn to ignore, he got especially forgetful. He found himself plastered to your backside at the edge of the bathroom counter with a grin, knowing damn well you only had twenty-five minutes to get the family dressed, fed, and on the road.

“Joel, you are so—”

“Quick. I’ll be quick.”

His eyes suddenly pleading with yours in the mirror. You just might’ve had the willpower to turn his honeyed gaze away were it not for the lips that followed it. Tracing the shell of your ear and behind it, down your neck, leaving trails of soft kisses down the skin until he reached the collarbone, your sweet spot, and licked it—the bastard.

“Five. Minutes.” Your words were equal parts invitation and warning as you shimmied your PJs over your butt.

“You know I’ll have ya finished in two, sweet pea,” Joel teased—but deep down, you knew he wasn’t kidding.

Both of you had cum and were done in a record-breaking four and a half minutes, swapping pyjamas for normal clothes in less than half the time and stepping back out of the bathroom with your hair only marginally tousled.

By now you had the ‘Pre-K starts in thirty’ types of quickies down pat. You were proud. You glanced over your shoulder to see a similar glint in Joel’s eye, and as you started out the bedroom door, you felt a tap on your ass—or, with the sheer breadth of your husband’s hand, more like a WHACK, followed by the sound of a stifled laugh.

“Can Daddy get some more’a that later?” he quipped.

“More’a what?”

Aw, hell.

Your sweet, forever nosy mini-Joel was standing directly in front of you with two pinched brows and a mostly eaten dino nugget clenched tight in his tiny fist.

You opened your mouth to conjure up some half-assed excuse for the spank your son just saw, but then your husband was scooping the kid up in his arms and toting him straight down the hallway, and you heard, faintly:

“Whatcha gettin’ from Mama later?”

“None of your beeswax, bubs.”

Joel got his second helping around lunchtime.

He’d been in between calls with what felt like an endless stream of subcontractors, suppliers, architects, and project managers when he swung by the house. You were in the midst of baking cardamom buns when he blew through the kitchen like an EF5 tornado and decided he’d be feasting on something else entirely.

“Joel, my buns,” you whined as soon as he’d carried you up the stairs and tossed you onto the bed, eager as ever.

“Fuck your buns.”

“You already fucked ‘em this morning—can you relax?”

Your husband already had your pants tugged halfway down your legs. You let him, then helped him kick the fabric the rest of the way off when it got to your ankles.

“You’re a fuckin’ maniac, Miller, y’know that?”

Something in the way he smirked as he sank his face between your bare thighs told you he already knew that. You would’ve liked to try and scold him again—give him a little more grief for the baked treats that would surely be burnt to a crisp by the time he was done—but then you felt his tongue lick a stripe up your slit, and you refrained.

Even if you’d wanted to, you scarcely would’ve been able to form a single word apart from, ‘Fu-cking hell, Joel’ and ‘Right there, right thereohfuuuuuuckfuckfuck.’

That was just fine by your husband.

In fact, he seemed perfectly content to lap at your slick, glistening folds while you moaned and cursed his name; it made him proud. Appreciative. Maybe even a tad too smug for his own good, if he were being honest, because the way you fisted his hair and rutted your hips against his face made you act a little more like him. A touch more reckless, sloppy, and desperate than your daily obligations as parents would seem to allow. A bit less proper and refined and a lot more slutty—all for him.

Joel teased your clit with a few soft touches from the tip of his tongue, and you almost tore the sheets in two.

“That feel good, Mama?” he hummed.

“F-Fingers, fuck, Joel— fingers,” you begged.

Still using his tongue, Joel drew the shape of a lemniscate extra slow just to spite you. You whined and bucked your hips in protest, but the man was undeterred—he knew exactly what he was doing. The only way he could be tempted to use his fingers now would be to spread your lips apart and lick you more, which he did.

Joel licked and sucked and drove you up the fucking wall with those figure eights until you nearly couldn’t take it. In one hasty, desperate move, you tilted your hips and tried to slip a finger past Joel’s mouth, into your cunt.

He bit that finger. You yelped.

“JOEL!”

It wasn’t that the bite actually hurt—his teeth barely grazed skin—but rather the way he refused to speed up. Gauging your wants and your needs with expert precision, he massaged the hood of your clit with his tongue and took care to plant suckling kisses as he did. You moaned and squeezed the bedspread, relishing the vulgar sounds of his mouth and the need he was building inside you. You turned your head to the side and whined into the pillow, knowing from the depths of your soul you needed release, but Joel just wouldn’t oblige you…yet.

When he grinned against your wet, warm, and slippery folds, his mouth might as well have joined in and said, ‘Keep going—you’ll cum on my tongue when I say so.’

Instead, Joel opted to say ‘Mama’ again, softly.

Mama.

He always called you that when he took you extra slow. Sometimes when he took you quick, too. Like a reminder to you both that you were, in fact, the mother of his children, and if the man had had it his way he’d have given you fifty more by now, daycare bills be damned.

He was generous like that. Always giving, giving, giving.

Just not when it came to doling out orgasms sometimes.

“I have a divorce lawyer on speed dial, just so you know,” you hissed through gritted teeth, head falling back when Joel’s tongue sank forward—inside you, then, “FUCK!”

“Mhmmm,” he hummed before retracting once more. Licking the soft, fleshy rim and nearly eliciting a scream.

Joel traced a circle with his tongue. He savored the taste. While you were whining and grinding your hips against the wet spot underneath you—a puddle that would only grow larger the longer he went on—your husband was devouring you, kissing your thighs every now and then.

“Well, if we split, my tongue goes too,” Joel said. Smug.

“Texas is a community property state,” you murmured, “I taught you how to eat pussy so your mouth is a marital asset.”

Silently, Joel wondered how that argument might hold up in court, grinned, then continued licking your cunt. You squeezed his head with your thighs, dug the balls of your feet in the sheets, and let out a lewd, pornographic scream that could’ve woken half the street. Luckily, your neighbors were probably all at work, your bedroom walls insulated just well enough to mask the noise, and Joel’s resolve crumbling slowly as he kissed between your legs.

One wanton, shameless, ‘I’m gonna cum, Joel, please’ was like music to his ears. He couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten with a wife and mother as sweet as you, so upright and polite in your day-to-day life and then a hot, trembling mess beneath his tongue when he needed you like this the most. Surely he couldn’t treat you so mean.

Joel wedged two thick fingers in your slick, dripping heat and beckoned you to him as kindly as he possibly could. Rubbing the pads of both digits, callused as they were, against the spongy insides of your core and flicking them forward—‘C’mere, Mama, Daddy’s right here, go on’— so of course, you had no other logical choice but to cum.

It was all habit by now. A dazzling, sumptuous routine.

And Joel Miller was certain he’d never tire of seeing it.

Your spine arched off the mattress an inch or two, toes curling at the feeling, and while the sensation spanned over your body, your husband was the first to see it, sense it on his lips and tongue and fingers just as well. He squeezed your hip, told you how fucking pretty you looked when you came for him, then patiently waited out the spasms and cries and fingers lacing through his soft, dark locks like he was your last remaining tether to earth.

Then he kissed the inside of your thighs and smiled.

“All better, honey?” he hummed.

“Yeah,” you breathed back.

“Still want a divorce?”

A smirk and a response of ‘Not until you knock me up at least one more time’ was hovering somewhere over your tongue when you felt the bed shake. Buzzing. Vibrating?

Joel sat up between your legs and yanked something out from under his ass. He peered down at the thing—staring into a screen—and cocked a brow as he looked back up.

“Someone’s been naughty,” he said simply. Grinning.

He lobbed the phone your way, and you just barely managed to catch it between two trembling hands.

Incoming Call: Francisco C. Morales Elementary

You shot Joel a look and answered it instantly.

Disoriented, disheveled, and slightly foggy from climax, you half-expected to find one of your son’s disgruntled teachers on the other end of the line, reminding you that today was a noon dismissal and everyone was supposed to pick their kids up an hour ago. Your husband was the one who would always keep up with school schedules, so your gaze narrowed at him, butt scooting up the bed while he tried to dive right back between your legs.

“He-llo?”

You smacked a hand away from the front of your blouse.

“Is this Mrs. Miller?” a voice trilled through the phone.

Yes, unfortunately, it was.

You almost had to backhand Joel across the face when he tried to bite the button off your brand new top, teeth ruthless in their pursuit of getting you fully naked now.

“This is she,” you squeaked.

Someone cleared their throat on the other end of the line—as though they knew you had a broad, hulking husband with a cock as hard as sheet metal trying to tear your clothes off while you talked. You stifled a shriek and a giggle when you felt your relentless man move down.

Joel was busy working your blouse from the bottom with that feral mouth of his when the voice sounded again:

“We’d really appreciate it if you and your husband could come see us this afternoon to have a little chat about—”

Your eyes widened. You clutched your phone even tighter and this time, more seriously, shoved Joel away. When he frowned and started to pout, you raised a finger.

“A-About what? Has my— has he done something bad?” Your voice all of a sudden tight, words wavering just enough to snag your husband’s attention too.

“We can explain more when you get here, he’s just…”

‘What the fuck?’ Joel mouthed silently, leaning in.

“What? What’s he done?” You couldn’t help it.

You heard a long sigh across the line, and you knew that wasn’t good. It sounded a lot like the kind of sighs you made whenever your baby made a colossal mess all over the kitchen floor, or your husband slammed a door too loud and woke the kids from their nap, or your son just—

“—keeps slapping his classmates on the butt.”

“Wait, what?”

You blinked. Joel coughed. Together, half-naked on the bed, you sat up a little straighter and leaned even closer into the phone, hearts starting to thud in your chests.

“Your son was just…spanking other kids and asking if he could ‘get some more’a that later,’ and when his teacher asked him where he’d learned to do a thing like that—”

You turned. Joel paled. Your gaze could’ve seared a hole through the front of his skull if you stared any harder, and just as your son’s principal continued talking, Joel raised his hands in surrender, already trying to apologize.

“Honey—”

“—and he told her he saw your husband do it at home—”

You didn’t need to hear another word. You were already fishing for your pants, yanking them back up your legs and brushing aside your husband’s soft, red-faced attempts at consolation, and when you were dressed, you started straight for the door. Already babbling some half-coherent apology to the woman on the phone, dodging Joel’s impossibly large hands and arms and hugs as he tried to pull you back into his chest and tell you he was sorry. You just might’ve let him, and maybe even believed him to be sincere, if you didn’t see the tiniest smirk on his lips as he fought to wrangle you in.

You’d made it to the door and were just about to pivot to give Joel the finger, tell him this was not funny at all, and he was coming with you right now, when both of you halted at the threshold and were obliged to turn again.

You sniffed the air, and your husband made a face.

Was it—

Before you could think, a plume of smoke drifted out through the kitchen door. Your eyes widened, and right as the fire alarm let out its piercing scream, you wailed,

“My buns!”

#C’EST LA PLUS BELLE 🍕 QUE J’AI JAMAIS VU LE FROMAGE EST FRAIS C’EST VRAIMENT MIEUX QUE LE DERNIER FILM DE GÉRARD DEPARDIEU #if anyone knows how to get a song unstuck from their head please lmk LOL #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #the last of us fic #the last of us #tlou

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hearts4johnwick · 6 months ago

Text

— CASUAL.

SUMMARY. you’re mad at tyler after an argument, he decides to win you over by bringing in your favorite food and taking you to a rodeo, when you think that his charm was working, an EF-4 tornado strikes.

WARNINGS. angst (happy ending though), tornado attack.

WORD COUNT. 1.2k

you were lying down in your bed, attempting to go to sleep or at least take a nap given that it was 8:21 p.m. you found yourself staring at the ceiling, listening to the music and people singing outside.

you can’t help but toss and turn around as you overthink about the argument you had with tyler. tyler was your best friend, childhood neighbor, situationship, you don’t even know at this point. and although tyler and you were always risk takers, some risks are too hard for you to handle, but boone and tyler are a dangerous duo.

when you graduated high school you went straight to college and studied meteorology, you didn’t waste another second of your life and did everything that it took to where you are now. but, tyler and you were separated for college, you were halfway across the country while he stayed in his hometown. but when you graduated college, you went back home.

the both of you caught up on everything each other missed, and next thing you know, you ended up joining tyler’s storm-chasing team, the thing is, by something that happened to you in the past, you always rode alongside Dexter and Dani, there were moments where you rode with tyler, but you were always harnassed up even if you weren’t inside the tornado yet.

your train of thoughts were so rudely interrupted by the knock at your door. you sit up and take a breath before walking over to the door. before opening it, you were thinking to yourself that maybe it was going to be your mother, or your sister, not tyler owens. he sees the expression on your face and smiles, attempting to cheer you up.

“hey…” your nose flares, he notices and chuckles. “i brought your favorite… Tina Mae’s chocolate pie…” he hands it over to you and you take it. “maybe if you let me in we can sha—“ his words were cut off by the door slamming on his face. his eyebrows raised and he froze.

you put the pie on the desk next to your bed and open the bag, and it is indeed your favorite chocolate pie. you smile to yourself and head back to the door, as expected, tyler was still there.

“if you think you’re always gonna take me back with my favorite food, you’re wrong.” i inhale sharply and tap on the door.

“well, i wanted to do it another way if you’d let me show you…” you raise your eyebrows and cringe. “no—no, not like that, well…” he cocks an eyebrow and glances at you, you were about to close the door again but he stops it. “no, hey, i’m serious. get changed i want to take you somewhere.” he smiles. you hum and close the door gently so you can get changed.

“you can’t be serious. do you want me to forgive you or hate you more, tyler owens?” you say as you take your seats in the rodeo’s benches.

“bit of both.” he smiles, and you chuckle whilst shaking your head. “look, y/n, i’m sorry.”

“you’re apologizing here? rea—“ tyler touches your knee softly, cutting you off.

“i’m sorry, sorry for what i said earlier. i shouldn’t have said those things. you’ve been through so many things i can’t even begin to imagine, and it wasn’t my place to say anything about that. you know i would never do anything to hurt you, i am sorry.” the soft glow in his eye made you feel the truth he was saying. you nod and smile.

“and why would you ever think i wouldn’t forgive you?” tyler smiles at your words and so do you. “i think i should be the one apologizing, i tried to stop you from doing something you gave years of experience, and that was out of place and overprotective and unnecessary.”

“no, no, it’s okay. you of all people know about these stupid risks i take, i was a bull rider for God’s sake! I know you hated that.” you laugh.

“yeah, i think i hated that more than storm chasing.” he chuckles and glances at you, there was a small silence until you broke it. “i just… i don’t want to lose you, ty.”

“you’re never going to lose me.” you look over at him, your eyes stinging as you feel some tears coming. he wraps an arm around you and holds you. “you won’t.” he reassures you nod and after a while, let go.

“you and that stupid face…” you look away, trying to hide a smile.

“wait what?”

“every time i was cleaning blood off of you, whenever you got knocked off your bull, you would always make that stupid face, or like look at me some way like you were trying to get me to kiss you.” he raises an eyebrow and you look at him again.

“oh, you mean my charm? i already come with it, it’s not something i do on command.” you roll your eyes and click your tongue.

“well, “your charm” has never worked on me. never has, never will.” the two of you share a soft smile, all while maintaining that potent eye contact.

you don’t know if it was the tension, but you had sudden goosebumps and started getting chilly. although your hair was in a ponytail, your bangs were getting in the way, you never took your eyes off of tyler’s but you could see his hair starting to get messy too.

“well, i don’t know about you but, i think it’s working pretty well now.” he moves the strands of hair out of your face and tucks it gently behind your ear before cupping your cheeks.

“about time.” you manage to let out seconds before his lips are on yours. your heart was racing the whole time, but you felt it could come out of your chest any second now.

the kiss started slow and gentle, but the moment you smiled into it, tyler deepened the kiss, you placed your hand behind his neck and ran your fingers through his hair, which made you notice how much his hair was moving around, as much as it pained you doing it, you pulled away and saw people walking away from the stands. you look around and pick up a leaf from the ground.

tyler notices and the two of you exchange a look. you both stand up and head for shelter, you feel the winds get stronger and that’s when you start to run, helping some people who have tripped along the way, but not wasting more than a second.

tyler and you managed to find a motel and in that motel an empty pool, where you sought shelter until the tornado passed over you. at that moment tyler had to help a man that had twisted his ankle, and a vending machine was blocking his way, due to the man panicking, he was gone.

tyler hid with you and another family of a mother and her daughter. the grip you had on tyler and that he had on you was like no other. you felt tyler plant kisses on your head to calm you down as you felt the tornado right above you, you held onto some pipes and his arms tightly, fearing for your life at that very moment.

when the tornado passed, you didn’t even want to let go of tyler, you hugged him and stayed with his arm wrapped around you the whole night, even when you shared your bed with him.

❛i know, “baby, no attachment.” but we’re… ❜

#tyler owens #glen powell #twisters #tyler owens x reader #glen powell x reader #tyler owens fanfiction #glen powell fanfic #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader

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tacagen · 2 years ago

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I FORGOT ONE MORE THING (that wouldnt fit in the original post anyway):

yeah, dt17 episode glomtales, all that but negaduck ALSO tried to defeat hero family with his own villain 'family' and even made it make more sense than thawne and glomgold combined. and failed twice as miserable, too. (the family way from disney adventures vol.6 #2)

did you know that negaduck from darkwing duck was based off reverse-flash? yeah, that doesnt even BEGIN to describe what's actually been going on between their character histories..

first, negaduck wasnt just inspired by or a reverse-flash parody. he's a literal copy-paste of silver age thawne with a very few changes of origin place from future to parallel universe and identity from some random future guy to main hero's evil twin, because originally eobard was fixated on being a Criminal and not particularly flash's nemesis. back in the day, thawne constantly mentions how much he loves his criminal life. half of his lines are negaduck-worthy purely because the rest is related to being a speedster scientist. my personal favorite as an example:

he passes the speed limit law in central city so that barry couldnt use superspeed without breaking it but thawne still could because he is 'a hardened criminal'. he invents rays that turn everything inflicted evil (something even negaduck has never done (ig solely because megavolt's already done it in the negaduck episode where he accidentally splits darkwing into good dw (posiduck) and bad dw(negaduck, with a black and gray color scheme), and while yellow negaduck is a different character this is basically how the idea of him was born and the writers just decided to keep him in a different form bc the gray one merged back into normal dw at the end which is super funny. imagine coming up with a duck villain and going 'oh this guy actually reminds me a lot of reverse-flash with all that opposite/negative thing. LET'S PAINT HIM IN THOSE COLORS AND GIVE HIM THE SAME PERSONALITY AND SIMILAR ORIGIN THIS TIME'), altho he DOES test the power gem on a cat in jail bird like thawne did with evil rays). he repeatedly tries to get poor former dr alchemy back to crime just because 'crime fun. why cant you see that. im doing it for your own good' and negaduck tried something like that with morgana in feb 14th episode my valentine ghoul (+that brief scene with gos from 2016 comics run where he believes she must be bad deep down inside out of comparsion to nega!gosalyn). negaduck also travels from a whole other world just to fuck around here for fun (there was this bronze age flash issue called flashback where thawne gets lost in the timestream because barry pushed the wrong buttons in his time capsule which is almost exact negaduck's fate in life, the negaverse and everything) and one of another few differences related is that negaduck is shown to be a dictator of his universe's St. Canard who is bored to live somewhere he already has all the power so he travels to another universe to cause problems on purpose.

second. dc's new52. eobard is rewritten again, now he and zoom are kind of one character. but guess what else is new in this version that never happend neither in zoom or professor zoom's lives? thawne is a fucking dictator in his own time. and people tried to fight his rule in flash's name just like friendly four needed darkwing as inspiration to finally fight back for their world.

he gets his own team, acolytes of zoom (i wish i could call them local fearsome 4 but there are 5 of them, making it more of a sinister 6 if you count thawne) which he trains for centuries to fight the flash and betrays later by trying to steal their powers just like negaduck stole f4's in jail bird to become mega-negaduck and if all that wasnt enough, without the mask he straight up looks like negaduck humanization. look at him. this mf is only missing a hat and a cape.

also these sudden black parts in his new speedster suit design? either it is some absolute fucking bonkers of a coincidence or someone on the flash writing team really went 'hey guys you know what would be real funny? lets base new thawne off negaduck. like he was originally based off thawne. i swear no one will notice' and everyone went with that. (i could also mention he has the same dumb motivation for being evil (having shitty childhood/being deep down sad about mistreatment and loneliness) as 2011 dwd comics run negaduck but imo that's too far of a stretch to actually be included)

third. yall know the deal of the first season of cw's the flash? yeah, what if i told you the whole thawne messes with the particle accelerator and causes barry to gain superspeed thing already fucking happend in darkwing duck, episode going nowhere fast?

(the way i lost my mind over this back in the day when i decided to watch dwd just because negaduck reminded me of thawne(i didnt even know he was a direct rip-off, i just went 'oh wait dt universe has this evil fuck that wears the same color scheme as reverse-flash? girl i AM checking the whole thing out just to see if he's anything like thawne'.) and first watched the episode... priceless, still haunts me to this very day. how the hell was that written in 1991. did cw writers just take the idea from dwd too. honestly i cant be sure about anything anymore).

and remember in the duck knight returns (2011 comics run arc) flashbacks there was a super funny thing with negaduck not knowing dw's secret identity and being so proud he cracked the case? remember cw!og!thawne looking for flash's time period and not knowing his identity in 2nd season cameo episode? what the hell was even up with that!!! like guys. guys one of you is the most devoted flash fan from the future and there is NO way none of that kind of information was left a CENTURY after (i mean come on dude couldntve you just asked gideon. she literally had that 2024 newspaper about vanishing and thats at the very least not mentioning she was created by barry) and another is straight up the same fucking person as the hero with the same fucking relatives and enemies. idk take a wild guess??? ((i really wonder if anybody on the wirting team of 2011 dwd run saw not just life, the negaverse and everything but any episode featuring negaduck at all. not only do they ignore the existence of nega!gos in the 'oh he mean bc alone :(' approach, they ignore the very definition of negaduck's character which is literally evil drake mallard. i mean sure hes dumb and may miss obvious clues because of being the same dw just evil but come on, such a comedic situation and never addressed by drake whos literally been in the negaverse and knows they are the same person or by anyone else he coluldve told that? oh well unless drake is also dumb af and thought there never was any drake mallard in the negaverse in the first place and that negaduck is some other guy. which is a real probability i suppose))

also. negaduck's death by being split on billions of evil particles in crisis on infinite darkwings and thawne, being 'exorcised' from nash's body in a form of a negative speed force stream with sparks in 6x15 of cw's the flash.

fourth! yall did watch ducktales 2017 reboot, right? specifically the duck knight returns episode? they introduce a whole new version of negaduck there! and guess what. jim starling, an old darkwing duck (in-universe 90s tv series) actor obsessed with his role, goes fucking nuts because there is a new darkwing duck actor in a new movie and he didnt even know. because he feels forgotten. because no one remembers neither him nor original series (objectievely not true bc obviously launchpad and drake but to jim they just dont count bc reasons. he seems to count only children but calls lp his fan when anthagonizes drake for taking even that from him in the end). because he was replaced and no one even bothered to tell him. he causes a fire on the set, almost kills drake but does have a change of heart at the end after launchpad's speech about what darkwing duck stands for and seemingly sacrifices himself to save drake and lp from the explosion. then they have the worst idea they could have in relation to jim's character ever: for drake to be a real life darkwing duck to honor jim's sacrifice. so naturally he hears that from the sewers or wherever he was hiding to see their reactions(look i am. 100% sure that this is what happened bc that makes so much more sense than jim getting brain damage or whatever from that explosion and waking up to choose violence again for no other reason). he gets hit with the being replacable and forgotten thing once again and renders back to negaduck tendencies, for all we know for good this time as his darkwing suit changes to the yellow-red one. yk who else went on a rampage because he felt forgotten and replaced? you guessed it! the return of barry allen, a 90s classic where thawne goes to 21st century for the first time, thinks he's barry (original-ish flash) because dissociation from trauma of seeing himself being killed by his hero and acts exactly like starling, having the same issues as motivation aka him/barry being forgotten and replaced by wally. he implies wally taking on the flash mantle is most disrespectful to barry. he rants about how he's the only flash and threatens to destroy not only the flash family but the whole central city for forgetting that. he and wally have a conflict of legacy similar to jim and drake's conflict in dt17. he is The starling blueprint only a lot more mentally ill. also we've heard something like the duck knight returns in running scared (this one is less reminiscent of jim but still features some things that werent in the return of barry allen). it's a rebirth arc that introduces another new origin of reverse-flash. now, he's been hyperfixated on barry allen his whole life (on a whole new level i mean) and there was the first meeting in 25th century where they Connected like thawne always believed they would. that day ended up in a fight and thawne's imprisonment because he set up casualties to get attention and praise for being the flash of 25th century but unlike all other versions this thawne has a change of heart after the fight, too. he promises to 'fix everything' including himself, he even goes to therapy afterwards. then he goes to the 21st century to tell barry how much he accomplished since they last met and then sees barry saying to wally one meaningful phrase he said to thawne that perfect day. like it wasnt something special only barry and eobard shared. like the day they met never happened. like he forgot thawne ever existed. like he was replaced as barry's speedster partner/friend/whatever he thought they were after that day by wally. and that shatters thawne so much he runs back to 25th and just decides to become the reverse-flash and make barry suffer until he gives him attention and recognition he deserved. frank angones, i am inside yor walls. you CANT deny you based your versions of dw and nd off flash comics and thawne particularly. and more, you legit made reverse!eobarry au and put it in dt in duck forms. i have been losing my mind about it for 3 years now. i am exposing you and there is nothing you can do to escape that.

fifth(ish). yeah, and btw about friendly four from life, the negaverse and everything. did you think they actually escaped being mirrored in the flash? ha. i present to you reverse-rogues from the 25th century aka the renegades, carefully created by zoom and thawne himself, thinking it would somehow be funny.

cant believe hunter once saw it on tv put 2 and 2 together and went 'eobard my dude we need to go full negaverse with the 25th century. we need a friendly four to your negaduck. i swear it'll be Hilarious'. god the only thing they lack at this point is nega!gosalyn (i mean. hunter actually did try something like that with inertia, saving him from the museum and trying to teach him how to torture flashfam into improving them but thad was more of a nega!honker and reverted hunter to crippled powerless state just because. love that kid)

and that's all i have so far, if anyone here also into both yellow-red mfs with no life feel free to comment or even add more because there sure is or at least will be more and no one has the power to stop it.

#i love the way he goes 'fuck you and your useless gay buddies megavolt' WHILE BEING BAILED OUT BY HIM #i bet that device negaduck is using is also of megs' creation 💀💀#just another day of being a member of the fearsome 5 #also the way negaduck doesnt even consider nega!lp and nega!gos as his counter-family #he wants the Cooler Gosalyn to himself so badly but every Cooler Gosalyn he meets only wants to kick his ass and does so at any given chanc #anyway tf was going on in thawne's mind. i dont even remember if he elaborated any further on the family part #did he realize halfway through the plan that his cartoon villain ducksona is showing and rebranded it into something more serious or #CONSIDERING THAT IN THE END HE JUST TRIED TO STEAL BARRY'S FAMILY ALONG WITH HIS LIFE BY POSSESSING HIS BODY????#+ whatever the fuck he had going on with tornado twins #thawne-negaduck pipeline

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star-suh · 8 months ago

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Wet Dreams

Kim Mingyu x Male Reader

cw: sub top himbo (attempt) mingyu, established relationship, somnophilia, pet names, restraints, unprotected sex, blowjob, musk kink, tummy bulge, breeding and facial, dumbification, implied second round.

—

mingyu was a heavy sleeper, there could be a tornado right outside his house and he wouldn't open an eye. he is also one of those big muscular dumb guys something that make him cute to some people but for others (yn) it made him even hotter. after some time of knowing each other and watching how their connection grew stronger by the days they decided to be a couple.

one night yn confesses something to mingyu, “you see, i wish we could go for a second round but you always fall asleep” he pouts. “aww baby i'm sorry” the tall apologizes “it's just that being with you makes me feel so good that i want to give you all the pleasure”, he kisses his forehead and taps his chin as if he was thinking about something.

“next time even if i fall asleep you can keep doing it with me, if you manage to keep it hard”...

one morning yn woke up for no reason and he hates that, it was 6:30 am, and when yn wakes up he hardly can go back to sleep. looking for ways to entertain himself at such early hours something under the sheets caught his eyes. mingyu's big dick standing in all his glory forming a tent with the white sheet “wood morning to me” murmured yn.

he quickly went to his closet and from a drawer he takes out a pair of red ropes that he uses to tie every limb from mingyu to each corner of the bed. the big dumb guy barely moves, it's like he doesn't feel the burning sensation of the ropes around his limbs. yn positioned himself in between his legs and started to smell the other’s dick and balls “such a manly musk”. his tongue went up and down on each side of that fat meat, making sure to leave it as wet as possible. slowly he tried to deepthroat him, relaxing his throat so he can swallow more and more each time. he finally reach the base of the shaft but quickly pulls out feeling his gag reflexes kicking in “this is so good” he slaps the saliva-smeared cock in his face leaving some of it on his face. “naughty boy who knows what you're dreaming about that is making you this hard, damn!” the bottom exclaimed, feeling it throbbing in his hand.

“hngh” mingyu moaned, yn stopped thinking he woke up but he didn't. he supposed it was just a reflex of how good he was feeling right now.

he aligned the already lubed tip right under his hole and slowly sat down on it, feeling how that thick dick stretched his walls. he was just halfway through and yn was already a moaning mess, that's how good mingyu's dick felt. when he bottomed out he waited some minutes to start moving. up and down with gentle hip movements so mingyu doesn't wake up, he was also being careful to not squeeze that hard.

“shit mingyu, i love your dick so much” unconsciously yn sped up his movements, just chasing his pleasure, “my fucking god, i want more of you… fucking ruin me” drool dripped down his chin, his hooded eyes trying to focus on something but failing at doing it. he bounces more and more fast, not caring anymore if mingyu wakes up he just wants that cum deep inside his bulging tummy “fill me up baby”.

mingyu felt some heavy weight on his crotch area so he opened his eyes, he blinked a few times to focus and see what was happening, it was yn's back and he kept staring at it while moaning and grunting, “yn?” he asks and the other stopped his movements, “yes?” he replies with some shyness laced in his voice. “what are you doing?” the top asks. yn bit his lip *looks like he woke up but his brain didn't* he thought and resumed his riding. after what feels like a long time mingyu realized that yn was fucking himself on his dick, he watched how that hungry hole swallowed all his inches, the sight made him hornier and yn knew that because he felt the cock growing and throbbing inside him. mingyu tried to meet yn's thrusts with his, the wet skin slapping sound echoing in all the room. yn laid back on top of mingyu moving his hips to massage that thick meat inside him “i fucking love you gyuuu~” yn was already gone, too cockdrunked to think straight. yn lift himself up with his arms so he can sit harder on the cock and also see better everytime mingyu's dick makes the bulge on his lower tummy when he goes deep. yn turns so he's now facing his boyfriend, riding even harder chasing that pleasant feeling. cumming hands free seconds later, squirting the cum all over his face.

yn freed mingyu from the restraints on his hands so he can take the lead in the fucking, “fucking fill me up” moaned the bottom loudly, desperation in his voice. “yes baby it's coming” mingyu reassures him by groping hardly his ass leaving his handprints in both cheeks. mincoc's cock is throbbing inside the other, spurting all the cum stored in his balls deep inside his boyfriend who clenches his hole as hard as he can to milk every single drop out of mingyu.

after they both rode his high mingyu freed himself from his legs restraints while yn just sits in the bed with his legs open fingering his hole “i think i need something more bigger and thicker than my fingers to keep all this cum inside me” his face tinted in red, hooded eyes, his hair sticked on his forehead for the sweat and drool coming out of his mouth.. “you looked so fucked up” mingyu comments while accomodating his tip on yn's entrance.

#kim mingyu x male reader smut #kim mingyu x male reader #mingyu x male reader smut #mingyu x male reader #kim mingyu smut #mingyu smut #male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #smut #male reader smut #seventeen x male reader

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yourmomsawh0r3 · 5 months ago

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new beginnings

pairing: Tyler Owen’s x f! reader

Tyler pushed his grocery cart down the cereal aisle, his mind wandering to the endless list of storm reports and data he needed to compile. Living in Tornado Alley kept him busy, but today was his day off, and he intended to make the most of it. His mom had called earlier, asking if he could pick up a few things for her, so here he was, navigating the grocery store with a list in hand.

Y/N walked into the store, her mind preoccupied with the upcoming shift at the hospital al. Being an ER doctor was demanding, but she loved it. As she moved through the aisles, her thoughts drifted back to her childhood in Topeka. She had left so much behind, including her best friend turned rival, Tyler Owens.

Tyler and Y/N had grown up together, inseparable until their teenage years when a series of misunderstandings and hurt feelings had driven them apart. Now, years later, they both lived in the same town, yet their paths rarely crossed.

Lost in their thoughts, they both reached for the same box of cereal at the exact moment. Their hands brushed, and they turned to look at each other.

“Tyler?” Y/N’s voice was filled with surprise.

“Y/N?” Tyler’s eyes widened, taking in the sight of her. She looked effortlessly beautiful in the grocery store lighting, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, freckles scattered across her nose, and those familiar dimples appearing as she smiled.

They stood there for a moment, frozen, before Tyler recovered and stepped back. “Ladies first,” he said, gesturing to the cereal box.

“Wow, chivalry isn’t dead after all,” Y/N replied with a raised eyebrow as she picked up the box and placed it in her cart. “Didn’t think you’d still be in town.”

“Ditto,” Tyler shot back, crossing his arms. “Guess we both had the same idea to stick around.”

“Guess so,” Y/N said, a smirk playing on her lips. “Still chasing storms, I see. Figured you’d have grown out of that by now.”

“Still saving lives, I see,” Tyler retorted. “Figured you’d have moved on to something less dramatic.”

“Some things never change,” Y/N muttered, shaking her head. “You still think you know everything.”

“And you still think you’re always right,” Tyler countered.

An awkward silence stretched between them, filled with the unspoken tension of their past. Finally, Tyler broke it. “Want to grab a coffee? Catch up?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Sure, why not?”

They finished their shopping and met at the small café inside the store. As they sat down with their drinks, the conversation flowed more easily than either had expected. They reminisced about their childhood adventures, laughed about old pranks, and shared stories about their current lives.

“Remember that time we tried to build a treehouse in my backyard?” Y/N asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“How could I forget?” Tyler chuckled. “We got halfway up the tree before your dad caught us and grounded us for a week.”

“I think that was the last time I tried to build anything,” Y/N admitted, shaking her head.

Tyler smirked. “Yeah, you always were better at bossing people around than actually doing the work.”

Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically. “And you always thought you could do everything better than everyone else.”

“Maybe because I usually can,” Tyler shot back, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Oh, please,” Y/N laughed. “Your ego is still as big as ever.”

“And your sarcasm is still as sharp,” Tyler retorted, grinning.

As Y/N rolled her eyes again, Tyler felt a surprising surge of attraction. He’d forgotten how feisty and sassy she could be. He found himself admiring her spirit, the fire that had always made her stand out.

“You know,” he said, his voice softening, “I never really understood why we drifted apart.”

Y/N sighed, her expression turning serious. “We were young and stubborn. I guess we both thought the other had changed, and neither of us wanted to admit we missed our friendship.”

Tyler nodded, reaching across the table to take her hand. “I’m sorry for my part in it.”

“Me too,” Y/N squeezed his hand, her smile returning. “But maybe it’s not too late to start over.”

Tyler’s heart skipped a beat as he looked into her eyes. “I’d like that.”

They finished their coffee and left the store together, walking side by side. The tension of their past was gone, replaced by a sense of hope for the future.

As they reached their cars, Tyler turned to Y/N. “How about dinner sometime? We can catch up properly.”

“I’d love that,” Y/N agreed, her dimples deepening as she smiled. “It’s a date.”

Tyler stood on Y/N’s doorstep, holding a bouquet of tulips, his heart pounding in his chest. The door swung open, revealing Y/N in a sundress that hugged her curves perfectly. Her cleavage sat enticingly on her chest, and Tyler felt his breath hitch.

“Wow,” Tyler managed, handing her the flowers. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” Y/N replied, a blush coloring her cheeks as she took the bouquet. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

Their dinner date was filled with snarky banter and playful sassiness. Tyler couldn’t help but be drawn to Y/N’s sharp wit and fiery spirit. Every eye roll, every sarcastic comment only made him more captivated.

“You still think you can outsmart me?” Tyler teased as they finished their meal.

“I know I can,” Y/N shot back, a challenging glint in her eyes.

Tyler watched intently as Y/N lifted her glass of wine to her lips. The way the deep red liquid touched her lips, glistening as she took a sip, made his heart race. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, her cleavage mesmerizing in the soft lighting of the restaurant. The scent of her perfume, a delicate mix of floral and something uniquely her, filled the air around him, making his senses swim.

“Enjoying the view?” Y/N asked, a teasing smile playing on her lips as she caught him staring.

Tyler smirked, leaning in closer. “Absolutely. And not just the view.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but Tyler saw the blush spreading across her cheeks. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And you love it,” Tyler shot back, his voice low and filled with promise.

As the night drew to a close, the tension between them became palpable. They walked to Tyler’s truck, the air thick with unspoken desire. Once they were parked in her driveway, neither could resist any longer. Tyler leaned in, capturing Y/N’s lips in a heated kiss. She responded eagerly, her hands tangling in his hair as their mouths moved together with a desperate intensity.

Tyler’s hands roamed over her body, feeling the soft fabric of her dress and the warmth of her skin beneath. Y/N’s fingers worked at his belt buckle, her eyes locking with his, filled with a mix of determination and vulnerability.

“May I?” she whispered, her doe eyes searching his face.

Tyler could only nod, unable to form words as his heart raced. Y/N undid his pants, her fingers brushing against his growing arousal. She looked up at him one last time before lowering her head, her lips closing around him.

Tyler’s head fell back against the seat, a low groan escaping his lips as Y/N’s mouth worked its magic. She moved with practiced ease, her tongue swirling around him, her lips creating a perfect seal. The sensation was overwhelming, and Tyler’s hands gripped the edge of the seat, trying to anchor himself.

Y/N teased him, her mouth moving slowly, her eyes flicking up to watch his reactions. She let her lips travel along his length, peppering kisses on his V-line, causing Tyler to shiver with anticipation. She licked the pre-cum off the tip, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she took her time savoring him.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his hand moving to tangle in her hair, urging her on. She responded eagerly, her mouth and hand working in perfect harmony.

Tyler felt himself nearing the edge, the tension coiling tighter within him. “I’m close,” he warned, his voice strained.

Y/N didn’t slow down, her determination clear in the way she continued to pleasure him. With a final, shuddering gasp, Tyler came, his release flooding Y/N’s mouth. She swallowed, her eyes never leaving his, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she pulled away.

Tyler was left breathless, his heart pounding as he looked down at Y/N. “That was… incredible,” he managed, his voice hoarse.

Y/N grinned, her dimples deepening. “You’ve been driving me wild since we were kids. .”

Tyler reached out, pulling her into his lap, capturing her lips in another searing kiss. “I can’t wait any longer,” he whispered against her lips.

Without breaking the kiss, Tyler carried Y/N into the house, his hands sliding up her thighs, feeling the smooth skin beneath her dress. They barely made it through the door before Tyler’s desire overcame him. He set Y/N on the kitchen counter, his hands moving to pull her dress over her head.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to see you like this,” Tyler murmured, his voice rough with desire. “Since we were teens, I’ve imagined this moment.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as Tyler’s hands roamed over her body, his touch sending shivers down her spine. “Then don’t make me wait any longer,” she whispered, her eyes dark with desire.

Tyler didn’t need any more encouragement. He pulled her dress over her head, revealing her in all her beauty. His eyes roamed over her curves, taking in the sight of her bare skin, her breasts exposed and enticing. “You’re perfect,” he breathed, his hands cupping her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples, causing her to arch into his touch.

Y/N’s hands moved to his shirt, unbuttoning it with trembling fingers. She pushed it off his shoulders, letting her hands explore the muscles of his chest and back. Tyler’s mouth found her neck, kissing and nibbling along her skin, eliciting soft moans from her.

“Tyler,” she gasped as his mouth moved lower, trailing kisses down her chest. His hands slid down to her waist, lifting her slightly to pull off her panties, leaving her completely exposed on the counter.

Tyler took a moment to appreciate the sight before him, his breath hitching with anticipation. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe and desire.

He kissed her again, his mouth demanding and hungry. Y/N responded eagerly, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. Tyler’s fingers found her wetness, teasing her entrance, making her gasp and cling to him.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice desperate.

Tyler didn’t make her wait any longer. He positioned himself at her entrance, pausing for a moment to look into her eyes. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice tender.

“Yes,” Y/N replied, her eyes filled with trust and desire.

With a groan, Tyler entered her, the sensation overwhelming them both. He moved slowly at first, savoring the feel of her around him, but soon their need took over, and he began to thrust harder, their bodies moving together in perfect rhythm.

The kitchen filled with the sounds of their lovemaking, the slap of skin against skin, the mingled moans and gasps. Tyler’s hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he drove into her, each thrust bringing them closer to the edge.

Y/N’s nails raked down his back, her head falling back as she gave herself over to the pleasure. “Tyler,” she moaned, her voice breaking.

He could feel her tightening around him, her body trembling as she reached her climax. Tyler followed soon after, his release crashing over him with a force that left him breathless.

They stayed like that for a moment, clinging to each other, their breaths mingling as they came down from their high. Tyler gently lifted her off the counter, carrying her to the couch, where they collapsed in a tangle of limbs.

“That was…” Y/N began, her voice trailing off as she struggled to find the words.

“Amazing,” Tyler finished for her, a satisfied smile on his lips.

Y/N chuckled, resting her head on his chest. “Yeah, amazing.”

They lay there in comfortable silence, the past forgotten, the future filled with promise. Tyler knew that this was only the beginning of their story, and he couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

As he held Y/N in his arms, he whispered softly, “I’ve missed you.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with emotion. “I’ve missed you too, Tyler. More than you know.”

He kissed her gently, his heart full. “I’m not letting you go this time,” he promised.

“And I’m not letting you go either,” Y/N replied, her smile radiant.

They fell asleep like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the past finally put to rest, and a new future stretching out before them, filled with love and endless possibilities.

#tyler owen #tyler owen’s #tyler owen x fem reader #tyler owen x f! reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens fanfiction #tyler owens #glen powell x reader #glen powell

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lila-lou · 3 months ago

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✨Houston - Pt. 1/2✨

Summary: While Jensen was away filming, a hurricane hit and you had to face it alone, burdened by a secret. When Jensen finally returned, relief and fear collided as you shared the news.

-requested-

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, ANGST

Word Count: 6986

A/N: No hate towards anybody. It's just fiction.

English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 🩷

Jensen had been gone for his new show in Los Angeles, filming for what felt like an eternity — over ten weeks now, with no real break in sight. The production schedule was tighter than ever due to unexpected delays when one of the main actors fell sick, which caused the entire shoot to be pushed back. You hadn’t seen him for over two months, and the distance was starting to weigh on you. There was no chance for quick weekend visits or even mid-week surprises. Everything had changed with this new project.

In those long ten weeks, Jensen had managed to get only three days off, and he used them to fly back to see his kids. You couldn’t fault him for that and you understood how much he missed them. Still, the loneliness lingered like an unwelcome shadow. Tomorrow, though, was supposed to be different. He was finally coming home, even if just for a week, and you had been counting down the days like a lifeline.

But now, as you stood by the large window overlooking the ocean, something inside you twisted with unease. The darkening skies in the distance mirrored the storm brewing in your mind. The TV in the background blared with warnings of severe weather rolling in from the Gulf, interrupting your thoughts with each alert. The meteorologist spoke of high winds and heavy rain, not quite enough to warrant an evacuation, but enough to make you feel a creeping sense of dread.

It had been two years since you and Jensen made the decision to move to Houston, settling into this beautiful, sprawling house right on the coastline. At the time, it seemed perfect. The ocean view, the sunsets over the water, the space and serenity. But now, as the storm warnings flashed across the screen, you wondered if you’d made the right decision. You had never been good with storms. The sound of the wind howling, the sharp crack of thunder — they had always sent shivers down your spine, leaving you feeling vulnerable and anxious.

The move to the Gulf of Mexico seemed impulsive now, in hindsight. Sure, Jensen loved it here, and the house was gorgeous, but you had always known this fear lurked deep inside you. Storms unsettled you, and the thought of facing one alone, without him by your side, only made it worse.

Your stomach twisted in knots as you pressed your forehead against the cool glass, watching the gray clouds gather on the horizon.

You groaned, feeling the frustration bubble up inside you. The anxiety gnawed at you, and the tension in your shoulders made it hard to relax. “Of all days”, you muttered under your breath, pushing yourself away from the window.

With a sigh, you grabbed your phone and dialed your best friend’s number, knowing she’d be awake even though she lived halfway across the world. Spain. Never having to deal with the heavy weather nonsense like hurricanes or tornadoes. You often teased her about how lucky she was to live in a country where the worst thing she had to worry about was a hot summer day or maybe some rain in the winter.

As you walked toward the kitchen, waiting for her to pick up, the soft ring of the phone seemed to be swallowed by the growing rumble of thunder outside. Your eyes drifted to the oven as you remembered the batch of chocolate cookies you’d put in earlier. Well, they were more Jensen’s favorite than yours.

The phone finally clicked, and your friend’s cheerful voice came through the speaker. “Hola, chica! What’s up?”.

You let out a heavy sigh as you reached for the kettle, flicking it on to make yourself some tea. “Hey… just trying to calm my nerves. We’ve got a storm rolling in, and you know how much I hate this stuff”.

“Storm? Ugh, I don’t envy you”, she replied with a sympathetic tone. “It’s like a whole other world over there, isn’t it? Here I am, in sunny Spain, sipping wine and you’re getting hit with storms again. Why did you agree to move to the Gulf in the first place?”.

You chuckled, a bit of bitterness in your voice as you pulled out a mug from the cabinet. “I have no idea. Jensen wanted the ocean, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. You know me—anything to make him happy. But every time a storm rolls in, I swear I regret it”.

As the kettle clicked off, you poured the hot water over the tea bag, the steam curling up into the air. You leaned against the counter, glancing at the oven timer. Just a few more minutes on the cookies. “I mean, I get it”, you continued, twirling the tea bag absentmindedly in the water. “He loves it here, and the house is beautiful, but I just can’t shake this fear. Every time the weather turns bad, I get this pit in my stomach. And it doesn’t help that he’s been away for so long. It’s hard to deal with all this on my own”.

She sighed on the other end of the line, her voice softening. “How long has he been gone this time?”.

You swallowed, staring down at the swirling tea in your mug. “Ten weeks”, you murmured, feeling the weight of that number pressing down on you. “Ten long weeks, and in all that time, he’s only had three days off. I get it, he used those to see his kids, which is exactly what he should do. But it’s just been… hard”.

Your friend stayed quiet for a moment, as if letting the words sink in. She knew how much you hated when Jensen was away for extended periods, especially when life got difficult. “Ten weeks… damn”, she finally said, her tone laced with sympathy. “That’s rough, chica. I know you’re strong, but that’s a lot, especially with this storm hitting now”.

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you, feeling the tension rise again as you heard another distant rumble of thunder. “It’s just been one thing after another lately”, you admitted, rubbing a hand over your eyes. “And now this storm… it’s not supposed to be anything major, but you know me. I hate this stuff. The wind, the rain, it freaks me out. Always has”.

Your friend’s voice softened even more. “I remember. Back when we used to talk late at night during storms, you’d be on edge, counting down the minutes until it passed. I can’t imagine being by the ocean during one”.

You sighed, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yeah, and I’m here, in this huge house, by myself. Well, I’ve got Jensen’s cookies”, you added with a weak laugh, trying to lighten the mood, but the fear still lingered beneath the surface.

“Wish I could teleport myself over there and keep you company”, she said warmly. “Though I’m not sure how much help I’d be. Maybe I could distract you with all my boring Spain stories. Sun, siestas, and sangria… You know, the usual”.

You smiled, even though it didn’t fully reach your eyes. “That sounds a hell of a lot better than storm prep and waiting for the power to go out”.

Another sigh escaped your friend. “You need a break from all this. Having him around will help, I’m sure”.

“Yeah, I hope so too”, you whispered, the longing for Jensen’s presence making your chest tighten. The thought of him walking through the door tomorrow, even for just a week, was the only thing keeping you grounded right now.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, the kind that stretched just a little too long, and you knew your friend was working up to something. When she finally spoke again, her voice was quiet, hesitant. “Have you… told him yet?”.

Your heart skipped a beat, the weight of her words settling heavily in the pit of your stomach. The unspoken truth between you, the one you had been avoiding for weeks. You took a shaky breath, gripping the edge of the counter for support as the familiar wave of anxiety washed over you again.

“No”, you whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear, your voice breaking slightly. “Not yet”.

Your friend didn’t rush to respond, giving you the space to gather your thoughts. You could almost hear the sympathy through the phone, her understanding of how complicated things had become. She knew you too well—knew the fear that had been gnawing at you since you first saw the two pink lines on the test, and how you had been holding onto that secret ever since, waiting for the right moment to break the news.

If there even was a “right moment”.

You closed your eyes, leaning back against the cool kitchen counter, the weight of your unspoken truth pressing down on your chest. “It’s not exactly something I can drop over the phone”, you added softly, more to yourself than to her.

“I know”, she said gently, her voice filled with understanding. “It’s definitely face-to-face news”.

You let out a heavy sigh, your eyes drifting toward the window where the dark clouds were still gathering. The irony wasn’t lost on you — the brewing storm outside wasn’t nearly as frightening as the one in your heart. Jensen had been so clear from the beginning, right from the very start of your relationship. He loved his kids, adored being their father, but he was done. He didn’t want more. He had been through the sleepless nights, the diapers, the chaos of raising young children, and he had made it crystal clear that he had no desire to go back to that. No more babies. No more starting over.

And now here you were, facing the very thing he never wanted. The very thing that might push him away, might change everything between you.

“I just…”. Your voice wavered as you struggled to find the right words. “He was so sure, you know? About not wanting more kids. He told me from the beginning that he was done, and I accepted that. I was okay with it because I love him. But now…”. You trailed off, biting your lip to stop your emotions from spilling over.

“Now, things are different”, she finished softly, filling in the words you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t even know how he’s going to react. What if he’s angry? What if this is the one thing that changes everything? I don’t want to lose him, but I can’t hide this forever. And the longer I wait, the harder it’s going to get”.

Your friend was quiet for a moment, letting the weight of your words settle. When she spoke again, her voice was filled with warmth and understanding. “You’re going to have to tell him, eventually. And yes, it’s probably going to be hard. But you know Jensen. He loves you. Whatever his initial reaction, that won’t change. He might need time to process it, but he’s not the type to just walk away”.

You sniffed, wiping at your eyes as a tear finally slipped free. “I know… I know that. But it’s just—he’s been gone for so long, and everything’s already so strained. What if this is the thing that breaks us?”.

There was a long silence on the other end, and for a moment you wondered if the call had dropped. But then your friend spoke, her voice quiet but firm. “This won’t break you. Not if you’re honest with him. It’s going to be tough, but you can’t carry this alone. You deserve to have someone beside you through all of it. And… he deserves to know”.

Your throat tightened, and you swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words. “I just… I’m scared”, you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared of how he’ll react, and I’m scared of what this will mean for us”.

“I know”, she said softly. “But you’re strong, and you can do this. And no matter what, I’m here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone”.

You nodded again, grateful for her support even across the ocean. The sound of the timer beeping in the background startled you, pulling you from the heaviness of the moment. The cookies were done. You forced a small smile, trying to hold onto the sliver of normalcy that baking had given you.

“I’ll tell him when he comes home”, you said quietly, more to yourself than to her. “Face to face. It’s the only way”.

“You’re doing the right thing”, your friend assured you. “He loves you, and he’s going to be there for you, no matter what. Just give him time”.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “Thanks. I really needed to hear that”.

“That’s what I’m here for,” she replied warmly. “Now, go enjoy those cookies, okay? And try not to worry too much about tomorrow. One storm at a time”.

You laughed softly, a bittersweet sound. “Yeah… one storm at a time”.

As you hung up the phone and pulled the warm cookies from the oven, the weight of what lay ahead still hung in the air. Tomorrow, Jensen would come home, and with him, the conversation that would change everything. You could only hope that, like the storm outside, it would pass without too much damage.

You placed the tray of cookies on the counter, their rich chocolate scent filled the kitchen, momentarily grounding you in something warm and familiar. You stared down at them, freshly baked and perfectly round, thinking about how Jensen always joked that your cookies were better than any fancy dessert. It was such a small thing, but right now, it felt like a lifeline—a fleeting reminder of the simplicity that used to define your relationship before things became so complicated.

You couldn’t help but think back to when everything was easier, when his laugh could chase away any worry you had, and when you both felt invincible. But now, that invincibility felt fragile.

The soft rumble of thunder echoed through the house, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling smaller in the vastness of the empty space.

You leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the cookies, your mind already racing ahead to tomorrow. You could picture his face, the familiar crinkle of his eyes as he walked through the door, probably exhausted but happy to see you. And you knew that the moment would come when you'd have to break the news. You’d have to see his reaction, whatever it would be—whether it was surprise, disbelief, or the worst thing you could imagine… disappointment.

You closed your eyes, fighting back the sting of tears. Disappointment. That was what scared you the most.

No more kids.

He loved his children fiercely, but he had drawn that line firmly in the sand from the start. The thought of him looking at you with anything less than love in his eyes, anything less than the warmth and affection you had grown so used to, made your stomach churn.

The truth was, you hadn’t planned this. Neither of you had. And the timing couldn’t have been worse. He was in the middle of filming a new project, already stretched thin from the demands of his career. You had been doing your best to hold things together, to be patient, to give him the space he needed while you dealt with this on your own. But now the secret was too big to keep any longer.

And still, you hadn’t even allowed yourself to fully process the reality of it. The tiny life growing inside of you felt surreal, like a secret you were keeping even from yourself. There were moments when you could push it to the back of your mind, pretend it wasn’t real, but those moments were becoming fewer and further between. You couldn’t escape the truth any longer.

Tomorrow, he would be home. Tomorrow, you would have to tell him.

You placed your hands on your stomach, your fingers resting lightly, almost protectively, over the slight curve that had begun to form. It was still small, easy enough to hide under loose clothing, but you couldn’t hide it forever. And you didn’t want to. Not really. You wanted to share this with him, to let him in on the secret you had been carrying for weeks. But the fear… the fear of how he would react made it feel like an impossible task.

You took a deep, shaky breath and whispered into the quiet kitchen, as if saying it aloud would somehow prepare you for what was coming. “I’m pregnant”.

The words felt foreign on your tongue, and saying them aloud didn’t make the reality any easier to bear. But they were real. There was no taking them back now.

As you stood there, staring out the window into the growing storm, you couldn’t help but wonder what tomorrow would bring.

Would he be angry? Shocked? Maybe he wouldn’t even know what to say at first. You played out a hundred scenarios in your mind, none of them feeling quite right. You couldn’t predict how he would react, but you knew that this was a conversation that would change everything. There was no going back once the truth was out.

The thunder rumbled again, closer this time, and you shivered despite the warmth of the kitchen. You reached for your tea and held the mug in your hands, seeking comfort from the warmth.

Just then, the phone rang, its sudden chime cutting through the quiet tension in the room. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the name flash across the screen. Jensen.

For a moment, you just stared at it, your stomach flipping nervously. The sound of his name on the screen, so familiar, so comforting, felt like a jolt to your already raw nerves. He wasn’t supposed to call until later, closer to his flight time. Your fingers trembled slightly as you swiped to answer, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hey”, you greeted softly, trying to steady your voice, but you couldn’t help the slight quiver in it.

“Hey, sweetheart”, Jensen’s warm, familiar voice filled the line, and for just a second, you felt a rush of relief. “You okay? You sound a little off”.

You bit your lip, glancing out the window again, watching the heavy clouds roll in. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine. Just, you know, storm’s coming in, and I’m alone in the house. I’m probably overreacting, as usual”.

He chuckled softly, that deep, rich sound that used to make you feel safe. “You and storms, huh? You’ve always hated them. It’s just a little rain though, right? Nothing to worry about”.

“Yeah, just rain”, you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper as the truth of what you were really afraid of sat heavy in your chest. But you couldn’t tell him now, not like this, over the phone. Not when he was hours away. Not when he was expecting you to be waiting at home, smiling, with cookies on the counter.

There was a brief pause on the other end, and you could almost hear the tension in Jensen’s voice, like he wanted to say more but was holding back. Then he spoke, and his tone was apologetic, laced with that familiar warmth that you loved so much.

“Hey, I’ve got to get back to filming in a minute”, he said gently, “but I just wanted to check in on you. Make sure you’re okay”.

Your heart sank a little at his words. Even though you hadn’t expected this call, the idea of him hanging up so soon, when you were craving any sense of normalcy, left you feeling hollow. But you forced a small smile into your voice, pushing aside the anxiety for his sake.

“Okay”, you replied softly, clutching the phone a little tighter. “I’ll be fine. The house is safe, and I’ve got enough cookies to last a week, even if the power goes out”.

He laughed again, that low, comforting sound that almost made you forget about the storm inside you. “You’re always prepared, huh?”.

“Trying to be”, you said, though the weight of the secret you were carrying made you feel anything but.

There was another pause, and you heard some shuffling in the background—probably crew members calling for him. He sighed. “Listen, I’ve got to run, but I’ll call you as soon as I’m at the airport later, okay?”.

“Thanks, Jensen”, you whispered, the sound of his name bringing a soft warmth to your heart despite everything. “I’ll be okay. Be safe, alright?”.

“I will. You hang in there, alright? I’ll talk to you in a few hours”. His voice softened, and you could picture him standing there, probably with that concerned look he got when he knew you weren’t telling him everything.

“I will”, you promised, though inside, you knew it was going to be a long few hours.

“Love you”, he added quickly, and those words, like always, wrapped around you like a blanket.

“Love you too”, you whispered, knowing how much you meant it, but feeling the weight of the untold truth settling even heavier on your chest.

Then the call ended, and the silence rushed back into the room, the steady beat of the rain against the windows the only sound left.

You stood there for a moment, gripping the phone like it was an anchor. The storm outside was getting louder, the wind picking up, rattling the windows just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

As evening fell, you found yourself standing in front of the large living room windows again, staring out at the angry ocean. The waves were crashing violently against the shore, each one louder than the last, and the dark sky was lit up intermittently by flashes of lightning far in the distance. For the past hour, heavy rain had been pounding against the house, making any thoughts of sleep seem impossible. You hadn’t even bothered trying to settle down—there was no way you could rest with the storm growing more intense by the minute.

The wind had picked up, howling through the trees that lined the edge of your property, bending them until they looked as though they would snap. The way the branches thrashed made your chest tighten with anxiety. This was more than just a little rain. The storm outside was quickly turning into something far more dangerous.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to fight the creeping sense of fear that had been building inside you all day. It was hard to focus on anything else—the looming conversation with Jensen, the storm that seemed intent on tearing apart everything outside your door. You tried to drown out the worry by turning on the TV for the latest updates, hoping for some reassurance, but just as you were about to settle on the couch, the power flickered.

And then, everything went dark.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you stood frozen in place, listening to the sudden silence that filled the room. Even the hum of the refrigerator had gone quiet. No lights, no TV, no comforting glow from the oven clock. You fumbled for your phone, but a quick glance at the screen showed what you had feared: no signal. The storm had knocked out the power, and with it, your connection to the outside world.

You were alone.

A cold knot of fear twisted in your stomach. The walls around you felt suffocating, and the sound of the storm outside—the rain pounding against the windows, the wind howling like a creature trying to claw its way inside—made the house feel smaller than it had ever felt before. The darkness seemed endless, swallowing up the comforting familiarity of your home, and all you could do was stand there, staring at your reflection in the glass as the storm raged beyond.

And then, your thoughts went to Jensen.

Somewhere far away, sitting in an airport, blissfully unaware of how much the storm had escalated. The last time you had spoken, he had laughed, reassured you that it was just a little rain. But this… this was something else. You wondered if he had seen the news, if he knew how bad it was getting here. You couldn’t even warn him now, couldn’t tell him to stay safe, to stay put.

Meanwhile, in LA, Jensen sat in the crowded terminal, his phone in hand as he absentmindedly scrolled through old texts from you, his mind somewhere between exhaustion and the anticipation of finally coming home. He’d been waiting for what felt like hours, his flight delayed over and over again. The storm back home had been on his mind, but nothing in the forecast had seemed serious when he last checked. Just some heavy rain, maybe a little wind, but nothing out of the ordinary for Houston this time of year.

That was until an announcement echoed over the loudspeakers, the sound snapping him back to the present. The terminal buzzed with confusion as people around him started looking at their phones, murmurs rising into a collective hum of concern.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we regret to inform you that all flights to Houston have been canceled due to an unexpected hurricane forming off the Gulf. Please make your way to the customer service desks for further instructions”.

Jensen’s heart sank as the words hit him. Hurricane? He immediately stood, his fingers instinctively dialing your number, but there was no response. Nothing. He tried again, and again, but each call went straight to voicemail.

His stomach churned with worry, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. He had told you it was just a little rain, that everything would be fine. And now, a hurricane was bearing down on you, and he couldn’t reach you. He couldn’t even warn you.

The flight staff were swamped, passengers crowding around them, demanding answers, but Jensen didn’t care about the chaos around him. All he could think about was you—sitting in that house by the ocean, alone, probably terrified, with no way to reach him. He could see it in his mind, how you would be pacing around the house, trying to stay calm while the storm raged on outside. You hated storms. You always had.

And now, this.

He looked at the flight board, the bright red letters spelling out “CANCELED”, and felt utterly helpless. There was no way out tonight, no way to get to you. His heart hammered in his chest as he tried calling one more time, but once again, it went straight to voicemail.

Jensen clenched his phone tightly, his mind racing through all the possible options. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sit here, waiting, while the storm got worse. He needed to get to you, somehow, but there was no plan, no idea of how bad it really was back in Houston.

Meanwhile, back in the house, you stared out into the blackness beyond the window, the storm surging with more force than you could have imagined. The trees bent and cracked, the waves crashing against the shore with an almost terrifying strength. You had never felt so vulnerable. You had never felt so alone.

And Jensen, the one person you needed most, was miles away, waiting in an airport for a flight that wasn’t coming.

You pressed your hand against the cold glass, feeling the world outside crumble under the force of nature, and inside, you crumbled a little too.

The wind had reached a deafening pitch, and every gust felt like it was trying to tear the house apart. You could barely think over the sound of it—like a train barreling through, unstoppable and unforgiving. The trees outside the windows were bent almost horizontal, their branches flailing wildly in the storm’s fury. You could hear debris slamming against the house, the sharp cracks of branches breaking, and the deep, menacing roar of the ocean as the waves crashed closer and closer.

You glanced out the window and felt your blood run cold. The waves were rising—towering, dark, and violent—crashing up the shore with a terrifying force, each one creeping closer and closer to your porch. The stilts that your house rested on were supposed to protect you, but right now, even those massive beams felt fragile against the raw power of the storm.

A sudden surge of panic washed over you, stronger than any wave outside. You couldn't stay here, not with the ocean threatening to swallow everything. Your breath came faster, chest tightening as the reality of the hurricane fully hit you. This was no ordinary storm; this was the nightmare you’d always feared would come to life when you moved here. You needed to get away from the windows, away from the view of the violent ocean that made your heart pound with terror.

Without thinking, you spun on your heel and practically ran through the house, your footsteps quick and uneven as the wind rattled the walls. You headed straight for the guest room—one of the few rooms that didn’t face the ocean. It was smaller, tucked away in the corner of the house, but right now it felt like the only place that could give you even the slightest illusion of safety.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you reached the door and pushed it open, the beam of your phone trembling slightly from your shaking hands. You slammed the door behind you and leaned against it, breathing hard, trying to steady yourself. The room was dark, save for the dim glow of the phone, but at least here, you couldn’t see the ocean rising, threatening, looming.

Still, the storm raged around you, the wind howling and shaking the house. The walls creaked under the force of the gusts, and you swore you could feel the entire structure sway. The sound of the ocean never left your mind, though, the memory of those waves reaching higher and higher still vivid in your thoughts. You sank onto the edge of the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as if you could ward off the fear creeping through your veins.

You needed Jensen. His presence would have grounded you, would have been the anchor you needed right now to feel even remotely safe. But he wasn’t here. You were alone. Alone in a house you weren’t sure could withstand the storm.

And then, the overwhelming sense of dread came crashing in again, accompanied by the helplessness of being completely cut off. No phone signal, no lights, no contact. The only thing louder than the storm outside was the storm inside you—the fear, the uncertainty, the crushing feeling of isolation.

Meanwhile, Jensen sat in the crowded airport terminal, his phone in his hands, staring at the same unchanging screen. The calls weren’t going through. He tried again, his heart thudding in his chest, each failed attempt making the knot of worry tighten further. Every time the call went straight to voicemail, it felt like a blow to his gut.

“Come on… pick up, baby”, he muttered to himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair. But still, nothing. Only that dead silence on the other end.

He felt sick. He couldn’t stop replaying the conversation from earlier in the day. He’d brushed off your fears, reassured you that it was just rain. You’d been nervous, but he had laughed it off, told you it was no big deal. “Just a little rain”, he’d said. Now, with a hurricane bearing down on Houston, those words felt like a cruel joke.

Jensen’s leg bounced anxiously as he stared at his phone, willing it to connect. He knew you were scared—he knew how much you hated storms, how even a thunderstorm would have you on edge. But this wasn’t just a thunderstorm. This was a hurricane, and you were alone, sitting in that house by the ocean, probably terrified out of your mind.

He had never felt so helpless. All the money in the world, all his connections, none of it mattered now. He was grounded, unable to fly home, stuck in a terminal while the storm raged on miles away, separating him from you. The worst part was not knowing what was happening. Were you okay? Was the house holding up? Had you found a safe place? Or were you sitting there, terrified, with no one to comfort you?

Jensen pressed the call button again, even though he knew what would happen. He didn’t care. He had to keep trying, had to do something.

When the call went to voicemail again, he groaned, leaning forward and burying his face in his hands. This was his worst nightmare. He had promised to keep you safe, to be there when you needed him, and now, in the middle of the worst storm either of you had ever faced, he was stuck a thousand miles away, powerless to help.

All he could think about was your voice, that soft quiver in it when you’d mentioned the storm earlier. He should have heard the fear in your words. He should have known. But he’d been so focused on work, so focused on getting through the day, that he hadn’t really listened.

Jensen felt the weight of his guilt pressing down on him, heavier with each failed attempt to reach you. He needed to hear your voice, needed to know you were okay. But every minute that passed felt like an eternity, and the storm was only getting worse.

He glanced up at the airport monitors, the word CANCELED in bright red letters next to his flight number. His chest tightened. He wasn’t getting out of here tonight. He wasn’t getting to you.

For the first time in a long time, Jensen felt completely powerless.

Minutes passed, each one feeling like an eternity. The wind outside had grown impossibly louder, the relentless howl of the storm wrapping itself around the house. You sat on the edge of the bed, your knees pulled up to your chest, listening to the chaos unfold outside. Then, you heard something—a deep, ominous rumbling that shook the walls, so loud and unfamiliar that it made your heart leap into your throat.

Your breath caught. What was that? You couldn’t even begin to imagine what had caused the sound, but it sent a wave of terror rushing through you. For a moment, you stayed frozen in place, every nerve in your body telling you to stay put, to not move. But curiosity, or maybe survival instinct, finally won over, and you shakily stood up, the beam of your phone barely steady in your trembling hand.

You tried to think logically—the cars. Bu both, yours and Jensen’s cars, were parked in the massive garage, safe when you had checked earlier. But now, with the storm surging stronger by the minute, you couldn’t be sure. What if the garage was already flooded? What if the rumbling had come from something hitting the house? The thought of the water rising higher, creeping into your home, made your stomach turn with dread. The waves had already reached your porch by the time you ran into the guest room, and there was no telling how much worse it had gotten since then.

You hesitated for a moment, then slowly climbed toward the small window at the far end of the guest room. The wind was howling so fiercely outside that it felt like the house was swaying beneath your feet, but you had to know what was happening out there.

As you approached the window, you felt a new wave of fear wash over you. The sky was black, save for the occasional, blinding crack of lightning that tore through the clouds, illuminating the storm for a brief, horrifying second at a time. You pressed your face against the glass, trying to peer through the rain, your breath fogging up the window. But it was too dark—way too dark.

You couldn’t see anything.

Your hands were trembling as you wiped at the fog on the glass, your tears only making it harder to focus. Everything outside was a blur—dark shapes, shadows, the sound of the storm so loud. You blinked hard, trying to clear your vision, but the tears kept coming, clouding your sight. It was no use. The storm had swallowed everything.

All you wanted was to see if the other houses were still standing, to know if someone else out there was going through the same terror you were, but the storm had cut you off from everything. You were truly alone.

Your sobs came in short, ragged gasps as you turned away from the window, sliding down the wall until you were sitting on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest. The fear, the loneliness—it was suffocating. You tried to breathe, tried to calm yourself, but every time you closed your eyes, you saw those waves, rising higher and higher, threatening to consume everything.

Jensen’s face flashed in your mind—his voice on the phone earlier, laughing it off, telling you it was just a little rain. How you wished he was here now, his arms around you, telling you it would all be okay. But he wasn’t. He was miles away, probably sitting at the airport, just as helpless as you were, waiting for a flight that wasn’t coming. And you hated that he couldn’t reach you, hated that you couldn’t even tell him how scared you were, how much you needed him.

Back at the airport, Jensen stood from his seat, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the departure board. He tried your number again, pressing the phone to his ear as he paced back and forth near the gate. He couldn’t stay still—couldn’t stop the gnawing panic that had taken hold of him ever since the storm had escalated.

Voicemail again.

“Damn it”, he muttered under his breath, his frustration boiling over as he ended the call and tried again. The same result. He could feel the panic rising in his chest, threatening to spill over into full-blown fear. You hadn’t answered in hours, and now there was no way to reach you.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up…”, he muttered to himself, his fingers tightening around the phone. He couldn’t stand this—being so far away from you when you needed him the most. All he could think about was how he’d dismissed your fear earlier, how he’d brushed off the storm as no big deal. And now? Now he’d give anything to take those words back, to tell you that he should have been more worried.

The airport was buzzing with frustrated passengers, but Jensen couldn’t focus on any of them. The only thing on his mind was you, alone in that house by the ocean, and the guilt that weighed heavily on his chest.

He tried your number one more time, holding his breath as it rang, hoping against hope that this time, you’d answer. But when the call went to voicemail again, he felt his heart sink.

You stayed awake the entire night, your body too tense, your mind too restless to even think about sleep. The sound of the storm had been relentless, the howling wind and crashing waves making it impossible to focus on anything but the raw terror building inside you. For hours, you sat on the bed, curled up in a huge blanket, staring at the window as if waiting for the next strike.

You couldn’t bring yourself to pick up a book or distract your mind with anything else. It was like your brain refused to let go of the constant anxiety, clinging to the fear of what might happen next. The storm’s roar had felt endless, and with no way to check on the outside world, you could only imagine the worst. Every thud, every creak of the house made your heart jump, and your mind raced with thoughts of what might have been happening beyond the walls.

By the time the storm began to fade, just before dawn, you were so exhausted that you didn’t even notice when your eyelids finally began to droop. The wind had quieted, the rain now a soft patter compared to the chaos from hours before. Somewhere in that stillness, you drifted off without realizing it, your body giving in to the exhaustion and fear that had kept you alert all night.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 2

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @spxideyver @mayafatimakhan @deansimpalababy @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

#jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles the boys #jensen ackles #jensen x y/n #jensen x you #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x y/n

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solarmorrigan · 3 months ago

Text

The Phantom Menace (no, not that one)

For the @steddie-spooktober day 28 prompt: Mask Rated: T | Words: 1118 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, modern AU, Eddie Munson is a menace, Eddie Munson is whipped, Steve Harrington is a tease, for the good of everyone present at the Halloween party Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Eddie is a menace.

And a goddamn pain in the ass.

It’s not that Steve doesn’t love him – Eddie is very lucky that Steve does love him, in fact, because Steve would otherwise have lost his patience about half an hour into this shit and ditched him to find his own ride home from the Halloween party.

And Steve had even liked Eddie’s choice of costume at first. He’ll admit that he hadn’t been super into Phantom of the Opera when they’d watched it—a little too theatrical to really be up Steve’s alley—but he’d definitely seen the appeal in Eddie’s Phantom costume.

The waistcoat he’d thrifted had been a hell of a find; it fits him almost perfectly. He’d sewn a cloak that he’d had entirely too much fun twirling around in when he’d finished it. The white half mask had given him an alluring air of mystery, and with his hair tied back? The whole thing had added up to a very attractive picture.

Until the night of the party, when Eddie had decided to be, as previously mentioned, a fucking menace.

He’s been fucking with people all night; nothing mean or destructive (Steve supposes they should all count themselves lucky that Eddie isn’t playing with fire), but irritating as shit. He’s jumping out from around corners and scaring people, he’s stealing things off the snack table and leaving them in weird places, he keeps changing the music from generic Halloween shit to opera (no one is sure how he’s doing this, since access to the Bluetooth speaker is being carefully guarded), he laughs maniacally every time someone expresses annoyance with his tricks, and he’s refusing to stop unless he’s paid 20,000 francs.

Robin offered him a dollar to stop tugging the back of her shirt and running away any time she turns her back to him; he’d argued that the offer was far too low, but had graciously accepted after she’d threatened to smother him with his own cloak.

The most annoying part, however, is that he absolutely refuses to answer to his name. Any time someone snaps out some variation of “Eddie, cut it the fuck out,” he dramatically asks “Eddie? Who is this Eddie? I am The Phantom!” before turning away, flourishing his cloak like Batman as he goes.

“You’re his boyfriend,” Robin insists, leaning up against the counter beside Steve; he’s been hiding in the kitchen for the last half hour, hoping no one will remember that he and Eddie had shown up together, “can’t you make him stop?”

“You think I have literally any control over him?” Steve asks. “He’s like a tornado; you just have to wait him out and hope insurance covers whatever damage he causes.”

Robin snorts. “Okay, but can’t you use, like, your wiles?”

Steve stares at her. “My what?”

“Your wiles. You know, be sexy at him, or whatever.” Robin wiggles her fingers vaguely in Steve’s direction. “That man is weak for you. I’m willing to bet he’ll do anything you ask if you flash your cleavage at him.”

Steve crosses his arms over his chest, hiding the way the shirt of his Indiana Jones costume is halfway unbuttoned, gaping open to reveal a decent (or maybe slightly indecent) amount of skin. “I do not have cleavage.”

“Whatever.” Robin rolls her eyes, then perks up at the sound of Eddie’s crazed chuckling coming close to the kitchen doorway. “Oh! Here he comes! Do it!”

“I’m not going to–”

“Do it,” Robin hisses, tugging on Steve’s arm until he comes away from the counter and giving him a shove in the direction of the doorway just as Eddie comes sweeping through.

Robin skirts around him, pointing two fingers at her eyes and then jabbing a single finger at Eddie, the universal sign for I’m watching you, as she goes by, and Eddie holds his hands up in surrender. She takes a moment to send one more look over her shoulder at Steve before she leaves, and, well – Steve guesses he might as well try it, before someone actually decides to murder Eddie.

“Hey, Phantom,” Steve says, approaching the kitchen island.

Eddie, halfway through ladling punch into a plastic cup, looks up at Steve and grins. “Hello, there.” His voice is deeper than usual, a dramatic affectation for his costume, and any other time, Steve would appreciate the sexy rasp; unfortunately, it’s currently attached to Eddie in full pest mode.

“So,” Steve drawls, leaning his forearms on the island, making sure to angle himself so his shirt falls open just a little bit farther, “I’ve been meaning to ask: I don’t suppose you’ve seen my boyfriend, Eddie, around, have you?”

It takes Eddie a moment to answer, his eyes glued to the span of skin and chest hair Steve’s putting on display. “Eddie?” he finally asks, gaze snapping back up to Steve’s face. “I’m afraid I don’t know who you mean.”

Steve hums, a little, disappointed noise. “That’s too bad,” he says, giving Eddie a bit of a pout. “See, I thought his costume was pretty hot tonight, and I thought maybe we could… y’know, slip away from everyone else, so I could show him just how much I liked it.”

Eddie swallows. “You don’t say,” he says, voice gone a little faint.

“Mm.” Steve sighs. “But since I can’t find him, and you haven’t seen him, I guess I just won’t–”

“Actually,” Eddie cuts in, almost frantically, “now that you mention it, I think I might have seen him.”

A slow smirk draws across Steve’s face. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nods quickly. “Let me just– I’ll go see if I can find him for you.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Steve says sweetly, leaning a little further onto the island (he does not, whatever Robin says, have cleavage, but if the move pushes his pecs up just a bit more, well – that’s just a bonus).

Eddie turns away, entirely forgetting to flourish his cloak, and ducks out through the kitchen doorway.

He reappears moments later, his white half-mask in hand, one side of his face still a little red and sweaty from where it’s been resting all night.

“Steve!” he exclaims, arms thrown wide. “I haven’t seen you all night! But, uh, someone told me that you’ve been looking for me.”

Steve rolls his eyes, coming around from behind the island; committed to the bit to the bitter end, that’s Eddie.

Somehow, Steve wouldn’t have him any other way.

“Someone was right,” Steve says, hooking a finger beneath Eddie’s bowtie and tugging him closer, leaning in to meet his lips in a deep kiss.

The Phantom doesn’t make an appearance for the rest of the night.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things #steddie-spooktober #I've only watched Phantom once and I couldn't remember how much money he wanted from the theater so I had to look it up #I'm sorry if it's wrong :[#anyway here's Eddie being a weirdo and Steve loving him in spite of (or maybe even because of) that #solar wrote #eddiesteve

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amongemeraldclouds · 25 days ago

Text

sober solutions to drunk discoveries

After a drunken kiss blurs the line of friendship, you and Mattheo get in the way of your happiness, prompting Enzo to play matchmaker.

Mattheo Riddle x f!Reader

Part two to nine shots of firewhiskey, can also be read as a standalone.

Content: fluff, slight angst, spicy but no smut, characters aged up

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Mattheo Riddle Masterlist | 2.5k words

The faint smell of alcohol invaded your senses, growing more pungent as seconds ticked past. The moment you dared to open your eyes, regret flashed through you along with the bright sun that assaulted your vision, hammering drum beats into your skull.

You shifted, burying your face in the pillow, its softness welcoming you back. Except you shouldn't have spun so fast for the entire world itself spun around you. You could have sworn you've never been caught in a tornado before, yet that's exactly what it felt like.

You grabbed the first thing within reach: a muscular arm. It was enough to steady you, anchoring you in place. In the sudden calm, you could finally hear your thoughts: why was there a well chiseled arm wrapped around you? Why did it feel good? What were you doing feeling up someone's arm?

Oh, this arm belonged to Mattheo Riddle. Words drenched in alcohol dripped into your mind like lazy morning dew, "you don't want to fuck me?" You asked Mattheo last night, your eyes wide and body burning with lust and inebriation.

Now it burned with shame. Forget coffee and tonics. Never underestimate the unbridled force of humiliation to knock your senses back into you.

Not for the first time, you wondered which gods you had angered to have incurred another set of misfortune. It was bad enough to be that heartbroken girl who got stuck in detention, sunk her grades, and nearly got disowned by her parents. You also had to be the girl who practically begged your best friend to fuck you.

You shrunk, cringing inwardly as you inched away from beneath the blanket, careful not to wake Mattheo. You breathed a sigh of relief when you landed clumsily with a thud on the floor. The cool air kissed your skin, reminding you to retrieve your blouse from where it lay crumpled on the bed.

A figure stirred from the other end of the room, a bleary eyed Lorenzo stared at you with his sleep-toussled hair. You instinctively wrapped your arms across your chest.

"You didn't see anything!" You whispered, trying to get ahead of him.

He blinked then repeated your words, "I didn't see anything."

"Stop screaming!" you hissed, moving away from Mattheo, blouse in hand.

"I'm not, I'm whispering!" Enzo shot back, arms raised.

"Well whisper softer!"

You turned around, fastening the blouse back on. You had been friends with Enzo long enough to feel his eyes roll from behind you.

"Just use my coat," he whispered and you nodded.

You turned back, "thank you, go back to sleep. I was never here. I'll return this later."

You snuck off, leaving behind the sleepy boy and the boy you love. It was too early to deal with the weight of your feelings. Feelings were reserved for midnight musings. When the sun was up, you had to lists to cross off, grades to earn back, a reputation to salvage, and feelings to avoid. For starters, you desperately needed a shower.

Enzo looked at the spot you just vacated then watched Mattheo, wondering what happened last night. It wasn't like you to sneak off that way, but he knew better than to get involved. You and Mattheo were bound to drag him into it anyway, the least he could do was be well rested for the chaos.

As he went back to sleep, Enzo smiled. You seemed back to your usual self, if a bit jumpier. It was still a win.

The second the bell chimed, you snapped your book shut and were halfway through the classroom, robe fluttering behind you in style. You were eager to be the first one out so you didn't have to run into Mattheo.

It did not add up. Mattheo was your safe space, your confidant, and partner in crime. And yet, something had changed last night. Insecurities swarmed through your head faster than you could outrun them.

What if Mattheo only said he'd be yours because he felt sorry for you? What if it was just a drunken illusion that vanished with sobriety? What if you were better off as friends? You couldn't risk another heartbreak so soon.

A sudden collision brought you back to the present moment as your books crashed onto the floor. "Sorr-" you started when you saw those familiar curls again. Except you now knew how soft they felt between your fingers and you ached to reach out. To be close to him again.

"Hey," Mattheo breathed out. Your eyes travelled straight to his lips, his usual smirk now skewed and awkward. You already missed how they felt against your lips, tender and wild. Your breath caught in your lungs. As luck would have it, you bumped into the very wizard you were trying to avoid. With all your effort to evade him in class, you had completely missed the fact that Mattheo had been skiving off.

You lowered yourself as a distraction and started collecting your books as you gathered your thoughts.

"Mattheo, I-" you started and reached out when he handed you your book. Without meaning to, your fingers brushed against his and your heart was picking up speed again, drumming to the beat of his name. It was too much to handle. "-have to go." You ended your sentence and walked away, resisting the urge to run.

"You have got to stop torturing Riddle," Enzo plopped down the chair beside you.

"I did no such thing," you shot back, your friendship long past the usual pleasantries of 'hi's and 'hello's. "What's he up to this time?"

"He's been prattling on about you at the Astronomy Tower, an entire bottle of firewhiskey in hand. We've got to get him back down," Enzo explained.

Concern spread through you like wildfire, but you hesitated, your insecurities weighing you down. "I don't know if I'm the one who can help him."

Enzo sighed, "What really happened last night?"

"We maybe sort of kind of," you began, "kissed."

"Fina-fucking-ly!" Enzo slammed his hand on the table, the bang echoing across the library. Annoyed faces were directed at him and the librarian's stern gaze burned through his skull. He smiled at them apologetically, turning on his charm.

"What do you mean?" You asked, bringing him back to your conversation.

"Oh come on, y/n," he rolled his eyes. "Everyone knows you and Mattheo are end game, even Cedric could see it too. Fuck that twat for how he dealt with it, you didn't deserve that. But you and Mattheo, it's bound to happen like snow in winter or snakes shedding skin."

"You did not just compare me to snake skin," you scoffed, the weight of his words sinking in.

"Stop deflecting, I said what I said. He likes you, you like him. I don't see the problem," he opened his hands wide to emphasize his point.

"Great, now I feel stupid," you exclaimed.

"And Mattheo's being a tosser up at the Astronomy Tower, you two were truly made for each other."

"Lorenzo Bekrshire, you're a wonderful friend, aren't you?" You replied sweetly, your words laced with sarcasm. "Come on, let's rescue that wanker."

You slowed as you reached the final steps of the Astronomy Tower, the evening breeze cooling you down while your heart pounded in your chest. There was no backing out now, certainly not after going up those long flights of steps. Your legs were jelly from the effort and the anticipation of facing your fears.

You looked tentatively at Enzo, who nodded his support. Just before you took another step, he gently placed his hand around your arm.

"This is where I'll leave you two to figure things out. Lay it all out and don't hold back. It's good advice for sharing your feelings and throwing up. You'll feel better afterwards."

Your eyebrows crinkled, "but I can't haul his drunk arse down the stairs myself."

"Just follow my advice, that'll sober him up. Except for the throwing up part, that one's for Riddle," he smirked.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Enzo quickly raised his finger.

"No more stalling. Look, I've got this date tonight and I won't be back until tomorrow morning. So have fun, yeah? Tell Mattheo, he better not screw it up. I'm running out of coats." With that, he turned and started walking downstairs.

You took a deep breath and steeled yourself. It didn't make sense that your entire world just blew up months ago. Being with Cedric felt like a lifetime ago, and there in front of you, was your potential future.

Your heart ached at the memory of your kiss. A kiss more potent than nine shots of firewhiskey in the way it breathed life into your world again. A lonely garden now teeming with the butterflies in your stomach and the blossoming of hope and desire. Feelings you had nearly forgotten about.

You approached carefully, crouching down across him as he took another swig from the bottle.

"Oh there you are again," Mattheo slurred, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth. Your eyes followed the movement as you resisted the urge to reach out to him and kiss him again.

Before you had a chance to respond, he continued. "Of course you're there too, I was just talking to you here," he gestured to the empty space beside him. "I tried not to think about you, you know? You're my fucking best friend. To which I mean that as a cuss word, not that we're best friends who fuck, because we're not. Even though I want us to, which you do too!" He dramatically gestured to you and that space beside him again before going on.

"But you were drunk and I didn't know if you'd still want me when you're sober. And can I be honest? I didn't want to just fuck you. It sounds crass and I know that's ironic coming from me, but..." he trailed off as he stared at you.

"I'm sorry, look at your eyes! You're so beautiful and for the first time, I don't want to fuck. I want all the soppy bullshit poets write about divine dances and souls entangled. Load of bollocks if you ask me, but it makes sense with you. Why is that?"

You blinked, trying to catch up with his drunken ramblings. "So last night, you didn't think I was pathetic?"

"What? You are many things y/n, but never pathetic," he replied. "Anyone would have broken down if they went through everything you did and I wanted to hold you together, but you just got up. Day after day, you got up and you went on. You cried and you screamed and we drank, but then you went on. Do you have any idea how brave you have to be just to do that?"

Tears filled your eyes at his words. He was always more honest when he was drunk but it still caught you off guard how the boy with dark eyes and a dangerous smile hid an entire universe within him.

"No, no, no, hey hey," Mattheo reached forward as a tear slipped down your cheek. "I always fuck things up, don't I?" He said, cupping your face to wipe off the tear. "This is why we're better off as best friends even though I've liked you for a while now. I'll just drink my whiskey and talk to this imagined version of you."

You suddenly quirked an eyebrow and tried not to laugh. He was so adorable, you hated the roller coaster of emotions you were on but no longer wanted to walk away from. "Can figments of imagination cry?"

"Well they never did except for you, so that's new. Unless..." he trailed off, the gears in his head spinning albeit rusty from the alcohol. You watched patiently as his eyes widened and crimson flooded his cheeks. "You're real, aren't you?"

"Only one way to find out," you said as you closed the distance between you and kissed him. Of course it was a lie. There were so many ways to find out, but fuck it you just needed to kiss him. And there it was again, more potent than nine shots of firewhiskey. It was an eternity you could live in forever.

The weight of the kiss sank deep in Mattheo's bones, grounding him from the drunken haze in his head. Your kiss was sobering and intoxicating at the same time, a delicious cocktail of emotions that far outweighed the experience of drinks and drugs. You may have ruined it for him forever and he didn't mind it one bit.

Mattheo held you close as he kissed you, one hand at the back of your head, the other wrapped around your waist as you straddled him. It was always inevitable, wasn't it? Falling for you. You with your beautiful face, the way you made him laugh, and how he felt at home with you. His heart never stood a chance.

For once, he wanted to move past his flaws and fears, so he could finally allow himself to want you. He felt it with the intensity at which he sucked your bottom lip, asking to be let in. You gasped at his boldness and his tongue darted in to explore your mouth. He may be good at fucking shit up, but for you he wanted to try.

A grunt escaped his throat when you rocked your hips against him and you were rewarded with the growing length you felt in his pants. Your fingers were wrapped in his curls while the other moved around his arm, feeling up his muscles again.

You needed to finish your conversation before you allowed yourself to go further. Reeling in your desires, you broke up for air. You were surprised when this didn't deter Mattheo as he kissed your jaw instead, planting delicate kisses down your neck. You sighed in pleasure, ready to let go of the words, but you needed to reassure him.

"Mattheo Riddle, my sweet Matty, you should know you don't just screw things up. You bring so much life and energy wherever you go and I'm so happy I get to be around you a lot. You're a firecracker, Riddle."

"For you darling, I'll be a fucking nebula," he said, his lips swollen and hair disheveled. You took a moment to drink him all in and admire your handiwork.

Tiny fireworks exploded in your chest at his words and you giggled at how sweet he was when he was drunk, both on alcohol and in love. "Now what was it you told me last night? I'm sober and I still want you so"

"I'm all yours," he completed the sentence, kissing you again.

In between kisses, you asked, "and what exactly did the poets mean about divine dances and soul entanglements?"

Mattheo gave a low chuckle, "oh princess, I'm no fucking poet, let me show you instead."

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Mattheo Riddle Masterlist

A/N: This is the first time I've written a part two for a fic. Matchmaking Enzo is my fave!

#mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle #slytherin boys #amongemeraldcloudswrites #amongemeraldclouds fluff

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megalony · 1 year ago

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She's Going Down

This is an Eddie X Buck X reader imagine that I hope you will all like, feedback is always greatly appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff

911 Masterlist

Summary: When a little boy falls down a mine shaft, (Y/n) goes down to get him. But when she becomes stuck and in danger too, her boys do everything to get her back.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I found him!"

(Y/n) flopped down onto her stomach, feeling the squelching mud soak into her jacket and slither up her exposed neck when she leaned closer. Her nose crinkled as she brought her gloved hand to her mouth and bit down on the end of her glove, ripping it off so she could dangle her arm down in the landmine.

Her knees pushed down into the mud that felt like quick sand trying to swallow her whole. The tip of her boots started to sink down and her armpits burned against the edge of the wood in front of her that she was leaning over.

"It's okay honey, take my hand." Her voice strained and her arm started to shake the further she tried to reach down.

Just a little further and she would grab him.

A few more inches down and the five year old would be close enough to take (Y/n)'s hand. She would pull him up out of the landmine and hand him back to his petrified parents.

"Come on," Her lips curved into a smile despite the wince that flashed across her face. (Y/n) pursed her lips and tried to keep smiling to reassure him.

He wasn't moving. He wasn't reaching his hand out. He needed to meet her halfway, (Y/n) couldn't lower herself down any more without falling and crashing down with him. She needed him to help her get him out of here.

"Please? That's it."

With a deep breath, (Y/n) shimmied further across the mud until her upper chest was tilted over the side, imbedded into the rotten wood framing the edges of the square mine hidden into the Earth. She could see how he had fallen. There was nothing around here to suggest there might be tunnels down in the field and a few bits of wet, rotting wood weren't enough to stop people from falling down here. It must have been very decrepid for a light weight child to break through like this.

(Y/n) tensed her knees and her thighs as much as she could, grunting as she swatted her hand out. She could feel his small hand skim the tops of her fingers but she couldn't quite grasp him yet.

"(Y/n), what are you doing?!" Evan's frantic voice carried over the field along with the bustling wind that swept through the field like the start of a tornado.

Her lips clamped together as she tried to ignore her partner and focus on the little boy. He didn't look too panicked considering the situation he was in. His face was void of any emotion, the only thing giving away his panic was each frantic, shallow breath that he took.

Her fingers skimmed his hand again and (Y/n) did her best to curl her fingers around the back of his tiny hand, envisioning Chris hanging beneath her, desperate to be saved.

Just as her hand found his, his other hand slipped from the rod of metal he had been clinging to so he didn't fall further down the rabbit hole. His hand was too slippery to hold on to. She couldn't tighten her hand quick enough and pull up before his fingers were slipping through her hold and he was falling.

"No!"

A violent scream burst past (Y/n)'s lips and she could feel her chest sliding forward against the mud that was dragging her down. Her boots scratched through the dirt and slimey, watery Earth she was laid in. Her body tilted down and started to go forwards but it wasn't enough to let her grab the little boy before he was tumbling down into the darkness.

The mine swallowed him up and vanished him from (Y/n)'s sight until all she had were his screams echoeing up to mingle with hers.

Hands clamped down around (Y/n)'s waist when her hands scrambled to press into the walls of the mine to stop herself following the boy down. Her fingers scraped through the mud and imbedded in the crumbling walls.

Evan's chest smashed down into the back of (Y/n)'s thighs, pressing her down into the mud like he was trying to make a cast of her body. His fingers punctured into her hips and scratched against her stomach to bind her against him and stop her from falling. His head whacked into her lower back while he smashed his knees into the dirt and pulled up before he started falling too.

He reeled himself up and dragged (Y/n) with him, letting her body propell backwards until her head banged into his shoulder and her weight fell onto his chest and pushed down into the mud on his back.

All the air crushed out of Evan's lungs and he laid gasping while he moved his trembling arms to bind around (Y/n)'s waist to reassure himself that she wasn't about to fall. He wasn't about to lose her.

"He fell."

Tremors rattled through (Y/n)'s body causing her to flail back and forth against Evan. She couldn't stop the tears that started to drench her face. She had been so close. An inch closer, a second faster, a better grip. Just a little difference and he would have been up in her arms already. He would have been safe and sound back in his mother's arms if (Y/n) acted a second faster.

"We'll get him out." Evan stayed laid out on his back for a few more seconds, unable to move until he heard the rest of the team heading their way.

If Evan had been a second later he would have watched his girlfriend disappear down into the depths of the Earth. A split second difference and he wouldn't of grabbed her in time to stop her from falling. Five seconds later and he wouldn't have even seen (Y/n) laid out in the mud, reaching for the little boy. And the team would have been stumped trying to find the boy and (Y/n).

(Y/n) turned her head to the right and pressed her face into the crook of Evan's neck until he felt her tears soaking into his skin.

"I… I nearly had him."

Opening her eyes, (Y/n) lifted her head from Eddie's shoulder and looked over when she noticed Bobby start to aim their way. She could feel Eddie's hand smoothing up and down her arm and his lips pressed to the back of her head as he sighed into her hair.

Waiting for everything to be set up felt like they were waiting for the world to end. And the longer they waited, the worse the weather was becoming. They needed to hurry before the little boy lost consciousness and his state deteriorated.

They didn't even know if he was okay down there.

"I think we're ready." Bobby stood in front of the team with his hands on his hips and his eyes doing a sweep over each of them, silently asking the question.

Who was going to go down?

"I'll do it." (Y/n) straightened up and smoothed her hands up and down her thighs to try and get rid of the adrenaline doing summersaults in her stomach. She wanted to be the one to go down and get him out. She had been so close earlier, she wasn't going to let him slip through her fingers again. She wouldn't fail him again. (Y/n) would go down into that mine shaft and get him back out again safely.

"No."

Her head turned to the left and her eyes narrowed in on Eddie. His expression was stoic with pursed lips and narrowed eyes that gave nothing away. "I'll go," was the only thing Eddie gave as an explanation.

"That's not your call and I'm smaller than you. I'm going down."

Eddie couldn't decide for her whether she chose to do this or not. It was (Y/n)'s decision and her mind was already made up. She wasn't sitting around, waiting for something to go wrong and for someone else to do the job she had failed the first time around.

Besides, (Y/n)'s frame was more petite than Eddie and Evan and even Hen. She would fit better down the new shaft they had dug up parallel to the one the boy had fallen down. She would be a better fit to get in a harness and squeeze down to find him. It would be too much of a tight fit for Eddie to go down and then connect the boy to his rope and winch them both up together.

"Are you sure?" When (Y/n) nodded, Bobby pointed over his shoulder as a signal for her to go and get ready.

(Y/n) could feel Eddie walking close behind her along with Bobby and Chimney hot on his tail. Her chest tightened and she held her breath when she felt Eddie's hand reach out and clamp down around her upper arm. His chest pressed up into her back and his lips hovered over her ear, breathing hot air down her neck that contrasted to the brisk chill in the air that made her shiver.

"If you can't get him for any reason or we need to pull you up, you listen. Alright?" There was something tense behind Eddie's strained voice but (Y/n) found herself nodding before she even understood what he was saying.

He didn't want her to fight them if the weather turned bad or their time was running out and (Y/n) couldn't reach the boy in time. They all knew how she would think, she would want to go against orders and do anything she could to save this boy just like the rest of them. But Eddie wouldn't risk losing one of his partners, not for anything. And he needed (Y/n) to promise him that she would listen.

Eddie pressed a light kiss against (Y/n)'s cheek before he moved to stand with Evan who was leaning over, looking at the new hole they had dug with the crane. But when Evan looked up and his eyes locked with Eddie, his shoulders slumped and his hands dropped from his hips.

"She's going down, isn't she?" Evan didn't need an answer. One look at his partner showed he was right.

The rain poured down around them and made the ground even more sloppy and unsafe than it had been this morning when they arrived. Evan could feel each droplet pouring down the back of his neck and trickling down his back making him twist and itch uncomfortably.

His fingers itched in his gloves that he pulled tighter to make it easier to move in them before he moved through the swamp of mud towards (Y/n).

Her doe eyes looked up at him but neither of them spoke.

(Y/n) watched Evan as he moved to take hold of the harness she had pulled over her shoulders. He gave it a sharp tug to make sure it was in place properly before he pulled it around her middle and clipped it into place. Once it was in place, Evan swiped the helmet from her head and replaced it with the hard hat he handed over.

(Y/n) clipped the circular hat over her head and wiggled it into place. She hated the straps on these hats, they cut into her throat and chin like a noose.

"Please be careful."

"I will, I promise." (Y/n) let a smile dance across her lips when Evan pressed his gloved hand beneath her chin and tilted her head up, pretending to check her helmet. She watched his eyes glance around before he leaned down and stole a quick kiss from her lips before his hands moved to her hips.

He turned them both around and walked close behind her, guiding her over to the winch where Bobby and Chimney were knelt down in the mud.

"Let us know when you find him and his condition before we pull you up. You don't have long down there with these conditions."

"Okay."

Evan took the clip from Chimney and attached it to (Y/n)'s harness, giving a sharp tug to make sure it was attached and not at risk of coming loose. The last thing they needed was for it to deattach and having to get someone else to go down for both (Y/n) and the boy.

When (Y/n) leaned over to look down the dark hole in the ground, she had a sudden urge to jump. The rain beat down against them all and pattered into the hole like an endless, open drum. The bright LED light set up over the hole didn't give a lot of light cast down, barely three feet of the ground were exposed before it went pitch black.

(Y/n) turned on the light on her helmet and slumped down to sit on the floor. The mud squelched beneath her and she could feel the blood leaving her stomach to fuel her head and her hands when she dangled her legs down into the gap.

"Let's go," She nodded over at Chimney and once he turned on the winch, (Y/n) leaned back and slowly let herself slide down.

Her stomach flew up to her throat when her legs dangled free and she felt all her weight fall down. The harness tightened around her thighs and her stomach and felt like it was pinching her lungs. It was like she was sat on a very odd, uncomfortable zipline that was going down instead of across. She didn't like the way her weight pooled around her stomach and the rope felt like it wasn't strong enough to hold her but (Y/n) tried to push those fears aside.

When she looked up, she could see both her boys leaning over, both wearing stern, tense expressions until the small torch on her helmet couldn't find their faces anymore.

(Y/n) kept one hand on the rope and briefly moved her other hand to the radio strapped to her left shoulder, just to make sure it was still there and ready for any emergency she might have.

Her feet pressed up against the mud in front of her but she made sure not to apply too much pressure. She didn't want her feet pushing through and creating a sink hole or crumble some of the walls in here. The tips of her boots pressed against the mud and started to move like she was walking to help lower herself down steady and safely.

Evan braced his hands on his knees and hunched forward as if looking deeper would let him see some angle of his girlfriend. All he could see was the rope disappearing out of sight, feeding the ground like a never-ending cycle.

His fingertips scratched through his trousers and his lower back arched out as he continued to look down. If he moved away from here he would only panic and there wasn't anything else he could do right now. Evan couldn't go and comfort the parents when he had no way of telling them everything was going to be alright. Especially not when he was worried because it was his girlfriend that had gone down to get their son out.

Sighing through gritted teeth, Eddie tilted his head back and narrowed his eyes up at the darkened sky.

They had quite a few lights set up near the house and all around the field and there was a huge LED light attached to the crane. It gave them ample light to see what was going on and so they could help (Y/n) if need be, but the weather wasn't doing them any favours.

The rain was making the mud worse and the whole field was becoming swamped in rivers. It made things unsafe for (Y/n), the ground was better when it was firm and dry and hard. And the thunder and lightning crackling through the sky was indicating a storm heading their way. They didn't have long before they would have to retreat and wait out the storm until it was safe to go back down again.

Eddie moved round and stood a foot behind Evan so he could slouch his shoulders up against the metal beams holding up the light fixtures. One arm folded over his chest but he reached his other arm out and tightly gripped Evan's shoulder. He smoothed his thumb across his neck and silently watched the panic roll through his boyfriend.

After a minute or so, Evan sighed and moved back. He was only going to panic everyone by hovering like a worried mother hen and he couldn't help. Bobby and Chimney were in charge of the winch and the construction manager was stood watching and waiting in case he needed to add any input.

Evan backed up a few paces until he was level with Eddie. He slumped to the right and let his head flop onto Eddie's shoulder. His feet sank into the mud and he slouched his legs down to lower his height to make it easier on his neck to lean into Eddie like this. He felt Eddie's hand move from his shoulder to curve around his waist and Evan's eyes fell closed when he felt his boyfriend's lips press against the top of his head.

"Okay, I'm down. Give me a few feet to move around." (Y/n) wiggled her body and shimmied around when her feet finally touched the floor and she could stand up straight instead of dangle down like a worm on a hook.

She held the rope and pulled it a little as they fed her enough so she could move around. It was safer to move while still being connected to the rope, just in case she needed to be dragged back out in an emergency or in case she fell when going across into the mine shaft.

(Y/n) made sure the rope was tucked under her right arm so she didn't trip on it before she moved to the hole broken through the muddy wall. Her nose crinkled and she coiled her arms into her chest as she climbed up and started to shuffle through the wall.

"Adam? Honey, can you hear me? I'm here to get you out."

She poked her head into the old mine shaft and took a quick sweep around but her heart dropped to her stomach when she looked down.

There he was.

There was more water in here than she expected. The rain had been collecting up for a while to have such a swamp down there with him. He was clinging to a broken, rotting piece of wood to keep him afloat. His chin was slumped on the wood along with both his arms, but he was conscious. His small head was tilted up towards her and his eyes were wide when they locked on her.

"I see him! I- I need another ten feet of rope, he's swamped in the water." (Y/n) flopped her legs over the edge and braced her hands on the wall. She had to go down at least five more feet to reach him and she needed rope to give her leeway to get down safely.

"(Y/n) be quick, the weather's turning up here."

"I'm trying." With a push, she slumped off the ledge and let herself dangle down once again as the rope started to go down. "Stay there Adam, I'm almost there."

When a ragged screech cut through the tunnel, (Y/n) lifted her head up and braced her hands on the wall.

"Fuck!"

The rope was getting caught on the roof of the bridging tunnel connecting both mine shafts together. If she let it keep getting caught it could crumble the tunnel or break the rope or get it imbedded in the mud and she and Adam would be well and truly stuck down here.

"Stop, that's enough." (Y/n) pressed her helmet into the wall and moved both hands back to the wall as she tried to think. "Sorry boys," She whispered quietly to herself before she reached down for the buckle.

Once it was unclipped from her harness, (Y/n) looked down as both hands held tight to the rope so she could work out where to drop herself down.

She took a very deep breath to inflate her lungs before she pushed back from the wall and let go of the rope. Her arms spread out and her eyes snapped closed as her stomach bolted into her mouth from the rush of falling. All the air swept up around her but as soon as her feet touched the water, her whole body went cold.

Freezing cold water enveloped around her body and dragged her down until she was trembling and jolting from side to side. Her arms frantically flapped around and she kicked her legs until her head broke through the surface.

Deep gasps clamoured past her wobbling, jittering lips and (Y/n) shook her head to rid her eyes of water. She had landed just behind Adam where she wanted to be so she didn't knock him or drag him into the depths with her.

"(Y/n)?! (Y/n) what the fuck did you just do?"

"(Y/n) what happened? Answer me!" Eddie's fingers pressed so tightly into his radio that the plastic started to creak beneath his grip and a slight crunch made him let go before he broke his only connection to her.

He pushed forward along with Evan who was already on his knees in the dirt, leaning as far into the hole as he could without risking himself falling.

Eddie felt bile rising in the back of his throat and he choked when Evan reached forward and grabbed the rope. He pulled it up with so much ease that Eddie almost cried. (Y/n) wasn't on the rope anymore. If Evan could pull it that like that, there was clearly no weight dangling on the end of the rope.

"(Y/n)?"

"The rope g-got stuck, I unbuckled for a minute. I've got Adam, he's conscious. We're coming back up to the tunnel now, it's okay."

"You shouldn't do that!" Evan all but screamed into the radio as he sank back on his heels and tried to take deep breaths. He tilted his head back until the back of his head bumped into Eddie's thigh.

He thought the rope had snapped. He thought she had dropped even further down into the shaft and they would lose her for good. Eddie had been telling himself he would have to gear up and go down after all. She needed to tell them what she was planning to do. She couldn't just take it into her own hands and frighten them like that.

"Up you go, honey. Grab the rope and get into that tunnel, I'm right behind you."

(Y/n) hoisted Adam up out of the water by his waist and held him as high as she could without sinking down below the surface. Her knees braced into the wall and she took deep breaths to keep her lungs inflated and herself afloat.

Once Adam reached up and grabbed the rope, she moved her hands to his legs and pushed him until he grabbed the ledge and wiggled into the tunnel.

The moment he was safe, (Y/n) curled both hands around the rope and pulled as hard as she could. She braced her feet on the wall and started to climb like she was absailing in the wrong direction. Her left hand dug into the tunnel and she let go of the rope, bashing her knees into the dirt as all her weight moved into her arms. Groans and harsh breaths wheezed past her lips until she was finally laid on her stomach in the tunnel.

She had him.

He was here with her and he was safe.

"Get back on the rope, we need to move you both now."

Her arm curled around Adam's waist and she tucked him deep into his side and crawled into the second tunnel the team had dug out. Her feet planted down on the floor and she gently stood Adam down on his feet. But when (Y/n) tilted her head back and looked up, another shiver rocked down her spine and her body started trembling in fear as well as frozen chills.

"Cap, this tunnel is too narrow…I'll have to send Adam up first." There wasn't enough space for (Y/n) to be winched up at the same time as Adam, they hadn't made this tunnel big enough.

"Quickly."

"Okay honey, hold onto this and the firemen will pull you up. Your mummy is waiting up there for you." (Y/n) strapped the spare harness tucked into her side around Adam and clipped the buckle onto his harness.

"And you?"

"I'll be right behind you. He's ready, pull him up." (Y/n) leaned her head and shoulders up against the wall and watched Adam slowly disappear like a package being delivered up to the Gods.

"Pass him 'ere." Eddie held his arms out and quickly picked Adam up once Chimney unbuckled him. He spun on his heels and treked through the mud towards Hen, the paramedics and Adam's parents. But when a clap of thunder broke out through the sky, Eddie shuddered and slumped forward.

He barely felt Hen take Adam from his arms before he was spinning around to look behind him when he could hear raised voices. His shoulders pulled inwards as tremors rattled through his system when lightning struck the sky and the weather shifted.

Eddie watched, helpless, as Chimney started to run with the rest of the crew and Bobby dragged Evan away just as the crane started to fall.

Shockwaves ran beneath the surface and the ground seemed to rupture and shift beneath them. Eddie's legs were taken from beneath him and he was pushed backwards until his back hit the dirt and his lungs stopped breathing and restarted themselves.

Evan braced his hands over his head and buried his face in his arms when he and Bobby stumbled to the ground that started to shudder and move beneath them. No air left his lips and his whole body jerked back and forth as his mind started to scream. He was going to be sucked into the mud. He was going to fall through the ground to the centre of the Earth. The ground was giving way beneath him.

He could hear the electricity sparking and combusting through the sky when the crane took out half of the electric lights they had set up around the field.

Eddie had never heard his partner scream like that.

He had never heard such a shrill, broken sound as what left Evan's lips in that moment and carried across the field over to where Eddie was laid, flat out and stunned into silence. He pushed himself forward, struggling for breath but his eyes focused in time to see Evan bolt across the hazardous field.

"(Y/n)!" Her name fell from Evan's lips in a tortured scream and his tone rose an octave the more he started to scream out her name. He slumped down to his knees, throwing the metal rods out the way that had previously held up the winch and the light fixture.

"(Y/n)! No, no (Y/n)!"

Evan dug his gloved hands as far into the soft, sloppy soil as he could and started to rake it up. He moved mountains of dirt either side of his knees and leaned forward, scrambling to dig and dig until he could burrow his way down into the Earth to find his girl. They had moved. They had let her go down there alone. They didn't give her any back up. They didn't get her up in time.

It was supposed to be the boy they risked losing down there, not (Y/n). She was Evan and Eddie's priority and at the end of the day, she was the team's biggest priority. They looked after each other before the people they served in the community. (Y/n) was more important to them, they had to protect her first and foremost.

No one had protected her this time.

"(Y/n)," Her name fell past Evan's lips in a broken sob and he brushed his eyes against his shoulder to try and clear his vision and focus himself on his task.

"Buck, Buck stop." Bobby reached down and tried to hold Evan by the shoulders but he was roughly shoved away.

"Get her out! Dig. Get her out she's stuck down there!"

"(Y/n)? (Y/n) can you hear me?" Eddie pressed his lips to the top of his radio and pressed the button until he could feel it crunching beneath his finger. His tongue darted out to run across his lips when they all waited but they got nothing in response. No crackle of the radio, no scream. No fists pounding the Earth showing she was still okay down there. Not even the sound of her breath. "Baby please…"

His hand dropped the radio and moved to tangle in his damp locks as he threw his head back and stared up at the starless, bleak sky that had done this to them.

What were they going to do?

"Buck, step away."

"Evan." Eddie crouched down in front of his partner and wrapped one arm around Evan's chest and the other around his back. He heaved him up, trying to ignore the sudden grip Evan had on his arm and push him when he fought to stay scrambling in the dirt.

"We need to get her out-"

"Baby we can't dig over a hundred feet into the ground by hand." Eddie pressed his lips to the top of Evan's head, letting his tears soak into his boyfriend's hair as he managed to flop Evan down onto the floor. He knelt down beside him, tightening his arms around him until Evan was squashed into his chest with his head on Eddie's shoulder. He panted and gasped into Eddie's shoulder, gripping his arm so tightly he was about to tear it off.

They couldn't dig that far down into the ground with their hands. They had to find another way to get down to (Y/n).

Eddie could barely feel each breath that passed through his lips, but he could feel himself shaking.

He shouldn't have let her go down. He should have insisted that he be the one to get on the harness and go into that stupid tunnel. He knew it was too dangerous to send her down but he let her go anyway.

What had he done?

"What do we do?" Eddie looked up at Bobby while he began to sway Evan back and forth to stop him from passing out. He was already in the middle of a panic attack and Eddie couldn't comfort Evan and try to keep his mind on (Y/n) at the same time.

"The crane is down… either we try and get someone down the original shaft if it isn't completely collapsed, or we find another way to dig the new one again."

"Get the winch back up and running and I'll go down and get her. We can't dig again, we don't know how much air she has down there." Eddie's voice came out muffled against Evan's hair but his eyes were focused on Evan. His partner was sat, suddenly silent as he stared at the ground that had effectively swallowed up their girlfriend.

Eddie would go back down the original tunnel, he didn't care if it was crumbling and close to collapse. He would go down and get their girlfriend back out. They couldn't waste time, no one knew if she was suffocating or if she had an air pocket keeping her safe.

Digging with shovels was going to take time to get as far down as they needed to reach (Y/n). A winch would be quicker and Eddie didn't care how unsafe it was, he would take that risk to find his girl.

"W-what if we can't find her?"

Evan tilted his head back and squinted at the rain pouring down his face and soaking into his eyes. He smushed his cheek into Eddie's shoulder but he hated the blood rising to the surface of Eddie's skin turning his neck and face burnt crimson. And he hated seeing the tears mingle in with the raindrops on Eddie's face.

"We will. We're not leaving her down there." He sounded so certain and sure and it calmed one of the many nerves in Evan's churning stomach.

But Evan still coiled Eddie's arm tighter to his chest and started to rock back and forth again. Because what if they didn't find her? What if she was lost down there? What if they found her too late and they couldn't revive her? Neither of them could live without (Y/n). They wouldn't be able to forgive themselves if they couldn't find her in time.

***

"I'm trapped down here!"

A broken sob left (Y/n)'s lips and she choked on air, coughing up blood, spit and flecks of dirt that were still coating her lips and tingling in her mouth.

"Boys. Boys, get me out," (Y/n) let her head fall to the right on a pile of crushed dirt and coiled her arms to her chest that hadn't stopped shaking since she fell back down into the water.

The dirt wrapped around her like a blanket, trying to soften her decent down into Hell as she waited for death to take her. She had tried moving back into the tunnel when she realised the shaft she was in was caving in on itself. She got halfway into the tunnel before a blast sent her flying down into the water in the original broken mine shaft. The only good thing had been the falling dirt. It clogged up the water and stopped her from drowning.

The water was still freezing cold. She could feel hypothermia setting into her bones that were trembling and her skin was now a very bad shade and shrunken and tight.

She didn't know what to do.

The other tunnel was completely blocked off and caved in. This one wasn't much better and every few seconds, the walls would shudder and more droplets of dirt and soil would fall down onto her. There was no where for (Y/n) to go, she couldn't climb up the walls like a spider, she wasn't connected to any rope or a winch to pull her up. And her radio didn't seem to be working.

She was cut off, trapped and felt like this was going to be her last moments on Earth. Her final moments weren't going to be spent with her boys.

That thought sent a guttural cry bubbling past (Y/n)'s lips and her arms cocooned tighter to her chest before she moved one hand up and clenched her radio again.

"Eddie… Evan… please! I'm still h-here."

"(Y/n)?!"

A gasp tumbled past her lips and she pushed herself to sit up in the mud bath she seemed to be trapped in. Her back ached and clicked into place and her hand tightened around the radio that she dragged to press it against her lips.

Did she hear that right? Was Eddie really talking to her? Or was this her mind trying to calm her down in her last moments?

"Eddie? Eddie, please, please get me out. Eddie?" She tilted her head back to look up but it was a sky of darkness surrounding her. (Y/n) couldn't tell whether the tunnel had been completely blocked off by the crumbling soil or if there were air pockets and streaks of light somewhere high above. All she could see was darkness with white spots from her eyes dancing above her.

But she had a bubble of air, for now. And static was crackling through the radio along with her partner's voice. They would know she was alive. If they heard her they would know to keep fighting and trying to get her out of here. They would know that she wasn't dead yet.

"(Y/n)… I- ell… pr- …now."

Broken fragments of a conversation crackled through the radio, but it was enough to lift (Y/n)'s spirits somewhat. He was saying her name. Either he had heard her and he knew she was alive, or he was trying to reach out to her and see if she could hear him. It didn't matter which because (Y/n) knew they were trying to find her.

"Eddie. Evan." Their names fell past her lips on a loop until the walls started to crumble.

Her shoulder hunched inwards, her hands clasped tightly around the radio that she pressed into her chest and her head tucked down. Her knees pulled up to her stomach when everything started to move and shake and a desperate, howling scream left (Y/n)'s lips when she moved.

Oh God, was she going to be buried alive?

***

"Get me down there. Now!" Eddie swiped the spare harness from the floor and bolted across to the original mine shaft. There was roughly five or six feet scraped away but with how easily they were able to start clearing it, the dirt was loose and the shaft wasn't fully closed in.

He wasn't waiting any longer for everyone to scrape and shovel away the dirt. He would get hooked up and go down now. Eddie would bash his feet into the dirt and winch down with a shovel and make a path as he went. It would be quicker and if he stood on the dirt and started to move and jump, he would surely fall down quicker than it took them to dig.

(Y/n) was alive down there. She had screamed. Eddie heard his name and a croaky version of Evan's name before she screamed. That was his girl and he had to get down to her now because something was happening to her.

He stumbled forward as he slung his legs through the harness loops and pulled them over his shoulders.

"Eddie not yet-"

"I'll dig my way down if I have to but I'm going now. She needs me."

Eddie dared to look away from Bobby and sneak a glance behind him at Evan. He had dropped his shovel the moment he heard (Y/n) scream their names and he was stood shaking his radio, hitting it and breaking it to try and speak to (Y/n). Eddie didn't want to leave Evan like this but they couldn't waste anymore time.

Just as Eddie reached down to grab the buckle and rope, he stumbled forward when he felt Evan grab his shoulders. His partner shook him so violently he almost went down on his knees and his neck snapped forward in pain. He could hear Evan shouting his name in his ear before Evan suddenly let go of him with a final shove and started to run.

"Buck- what the fuck-" Eddie waved his arms out at his sides and dropped the rope as he watched his partner run, skid and stumble through the sloppy mud at their feet.

Where was she going?

A horrid scream tore through the air and for a moment, Eddie wasn't sure who made the sound. But when he narrowed his eyes and looked into the distance, he realised it hadn't been Evan who screamed like he thought it might have been.

It was (Y/n).

Eddie pushed past Bobby, bashing his shoulder into his captain as he set off into a sprint after Evan.

There she was. Not trapped over a hundred feet down beneath the ground. Not drowning in rain water or choking beneath a pile of dirt. She was stood halfway across the field, screaming as much as her lungs would allow. The closer Eddie got, the more frantic he became. She was drenched. From head to foot, (Y/n) was lathered in water, dirt and flecks of pebbles and grass. Water was dripping from every inch of her skin and clothing.

She was stumbling. Her knees were barely keeping her upright and her arms were stretched out in front of her before she went down on her knees and flopped onto her stomach.

Rough wheezes and broken sounds left her lips and a horrible tremble was making her writhe around in the mud.

But she was here, and she was alive.

"Baby! Oh God- oh baby!" Evan crashed down into the dirt the moment he was close enough to reach out for her. His arms swooped down around her and he reeled her up until he could slump her against his chest. His fingertips dug into her waist and his other hand moved to cradle the back of her neck that was frozen stiff and as cold as the artic.

"Sweetheart- hey, hey it's okay. Look at me, hm? Come on,"

Eddie bashed his arm into Evan when he went down beside him in the mud. His hands reached out and cupped (Y/n)'s jittering face that felt like rubber from how cold and wet she was. He lifted her head up and leaned down to press their foreheads together. He didn't like the purple and blue tinge to her inner lips that were parted enough for her to start crying.

"I- I couldn't… I-"

"Shh, shh we've got you now. It's okay." He kissed her frozen lips that were barely able to move and he swiped his thumbs beneath her eyes, collecting up her tears that continued to fall. Eddie could feel tears flushing down his own face as he sniffed and tried to compose himself, but he couldn't.

"You're alright baby."

(Y/n) wasn't sure if Evan was telling her or if he was reassuring himself but either way, she relished in his voice. Both of their voices. Violent tremors racked through her body and she clung to Evan's arm, digging her nails through his florescent jacket while she pressed her forehead down into Eddie's chest.

They had her. Whatever they had been doing up here sent her breaking through another tunnel that led out into the lake. She had gotten out, she was safe and back in their arms again where she wanted to be for the rest of her life.

Eddie gently smoothed (Y/n)'s hair back behind her ears, wondering at what point she had taken off her helmet. He kissed the top of her head while Evan leaned over and tucked his face into her shoulder, both of them leaning closer into Eddie.

They had her back. They were all going to be okay.

#evan buckley x reader #eddie diaz x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley imagine #buck x reader #buck imagine #imagine #911 imagine #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x buck #buck x eddie #eddie x reader

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catboyieejeno · 1 year ago

Text

don't kiss and tell: part 4 ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

other parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

pairings: best friend! mark + best friend! jeno + best friend! hyuck x female! reader summary: “you’re mine, yeah?” — the finale of the don’t kiss and tell series. content: non-idol au, angst, hurt + comfort, smut, unprotected sex, pet names, spitting (only once), very plot heavy! read the other parts if you haven’t already! wc: 9.4k

masterlist

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

18+ minors do not interact !

the first sip of soju mark had the night that he met you was nothing compared to his final sip that evening. honestly speaking, he didn't want to drink soju at all; he always preferred beer because—well, it didn't make his face and ears go quite as red and it paired better with his favorite snacks. at least that's what he thought until he found himself at the quiet corner store by his apartment late on a thursday night, where he saw you for the first time.

you sat alone atop a tall stool, glowing from the warmth of the summer night's heat with an impressive six bottles of soju by your side. instantly, his plan to grab a few beers and some junk food to take back to his place after a tiresome, uninspiring day vanished.

he'd never admit it to you, but you were quite a pitiful sight—slumped over the table and halfway through your second bottle with black rings of mascara around your eyes. you were obviously not having a good day; that, and the fact that it was half past midnight, sealed his fate: in a moment's notice, he didn't know you, but even then, he decided that you didn't deserve to be out so late, upset and drinking by yourself.

that night, mark lee approached you, be it out of intrigue or intense sympathy, and unknowingly catalyzed the beginning of your friendship.

"do you plan on drinking all that by yourself?"

you didn't look up at first, staring blankly at his shoes that came to an abrupt stop a short bit away from you. for a while, you didn't say anything, either, completely ignoring his presence as you wallowed in your state of sadness.

just when he thought your silence was a polite form of rejection and made the first move to step away, the screech of the stool dragging against the ground drew his attention. you were looking at him now, one foot pushing the chair as a wordless invitation for him to sit down.

you're quick to shake around one of the soju bottles for him, watching the little tornado form a spiral behind the clear green glass. after twisting it open, you hand it to him, clinking your bottle against his and not waiting before bringing it to your lips for a sip.

he watches as he drinks, then follows suit, taking note of the fact that your gulp is significantly longer than his. you scrunch up your face at the taste, huffing out, and he asked, "do you not like this flavor?"

nothing.

mark takes another apprehensive sip and sighs. he'd much rather be at home having his beer with his loud roommates who hog his snacks. even if he were to have been alone, the more probable outcome since they went out often, he might still have been fine. why did he have to come up to you in the first place?

deciding this would be his last attempt at conversation, mark clears his throat, "do you wanna talk about it? i won't even say anything if you want. sometimes it's good to vent, ya know?"

truthfully, he's not expecting you to answer, and he's begun planning how he's gonna get up and politely excuse himself when for the first time, you meet his eyes. your hand dances across the table, taking the small, metal bottle cap and extending the attached metal strip until it's poking upwards. you hand it to him expectantly.

"do you-" he holds it up between his index and thumb, "do you want me to flick it..?"

you nod, "we'll take turns asking questions, and whoever flicks it off gets their question answered. if it doesn’t come off on your turn, you take a drink." your voice is not nearly as quiet or timid as he expected it to be, and it takes him by surprise. your speech is also not slurred, meaning either your drinking tolerance is relatively high, or you were still early into your night's mission of destroying your liver when he ran into you.

his train of thought stutters momentarily, but he clears his throat and managed to form a sentence, "wouldn't we get to know each other better if we were actually answering the questions?"

nonchalantly, you shrug, "i think the questions you're willing to ask a complete stranger say a lot about you."

mark blinks once at you before readjusting in his seat. he thinks for a second before nodding to himself, "okay. what's your favorite color?"

there's a small clink as he flicks the coiled metal, but it doesn't come off. you snort at his plain and boring question, taking the cap from his hands. as he awaits your question, he takes a sip, only to choke on it as your words leave your lips.

"are you like a pervert or something?" flick. it doesn’t come off.

"what? no!" instantly, he coughs out, wiping his mouth on his jacket sleeve, "why would you even think that?"

"you saw a girl drinking on her own and came over to talk to her. maybe you wanna take advantage of me or something..." you trail off, continuing after taking a drink. "anyway, that's not how you play—you weren't supposed to answer. you also can't ask me a question unless you flick for it after, but we'll call that a practice round."

"you just asked if i was a pervert! how was i meant to not answ-"

"that's also a question," you warn, waving the little green cap around in front of his face. he begrudgingly takes it, sitting up much straighter as he tries to conjure an equally staggering question to ask you.

"why would you let a random stranger join you for a drink on a street corner? what if i was a pervert?"

"that's two questions," you sigh out, but he fails to flick off the coil off so you take it from him again.

"if you're not a pervert, then why did you come up to me?"

as your finger meets the cap, it sends flying the piece of metal. mark's lips purse, realizing he actually owes you an answer this time. he also realizes… he doesn’t have one—not a very good one at least.

the tips of his ears are glowing hot as he clears his throat, “well, i-i was gonna… you just- and then i saw you and-” he pauses to take a deep breath, pleading with himself to stop his pathetic stuttering. really, he came up to you because you were sad, lonely, and drinking by yourself on a random street corner; he can't just say that though. you would be offended if he stated it so plainly.

after a short moment, racking his brain and sitting under your expectant gaze, mark gathers himself and his answer.

“today hasn’t been great. i was gonna go home to mope and drink, too. I only came to pick up some alcohol and that’s when I saw you sitting here, drinking by yourself. so, I figured, you know... that neither of us deserve drink alone...”

he hardly maintains eye contact as he trails off and you’re grateful, because there’s a small smile fighting to creep onto your lips. he's charming, albeit a little awkward.

“that’s a good answer,” you decide and finish downing your drink, spinning around a new bottle and twisting off the cap.

mark, newly encouraged by your praise, holds his hand out for you to allow him his turn. he even goes as far as flicking the air a few times for practice before aligning his fingers with his target.

"so, how and why did you end up sitting out here tonight?"

your breath kinda hitches in your throat.

"no one ever gets in on the first try," you try to argue, reluctant to reveal your answer, "so hand it over-"

there's a small clink as it lands on the cold pavement, the metal spiral that was proven to be no match for the boy. you blink at him and the accomplished, giddy smile that spreads on his face, letting your shoulders fall.

"you were saying?" he jokes, leaning forward. his cheeks and face are starting to flush red from the alcohol, "i believe you owe me an answer,"

"long day," you mutter.

"oh, come on. that's so vague," at your glare, his hand reaches over to land on your forearm, and your eyes follow it warily, "i promise, i won't judge you or anything."

his eyes are soft and genuine and boring into yours with no attempt to hide his curiosity. this game may have been your idea, but you didn't expect to actually have to open up to some random guy.

whatever, you think to yourself, it's not like he knows you enough to care. but then why would he ask? he does care, at least somewhat. why would he approach you if he didn't, right? anyway, you're not sure whether that notion makes you feel better or worse, but the soju is catching up to you and sending the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can decide.

"i got broken up with yesterday," you pause, but mark doesn't speak. his smile does falter, though, and you feel a pang in your chest for ruining the mood, "we were together for over a year and a half. as it turns out, he hasn't even been in love with me for most of it. he said that he 'fell out of love' a few months in. didn't bother letting me in on that detail, though,"

you laugh bitterly and take a sip, nose sniffling to fight any tears that might spill, "and i'm here because, well," you slosh around the clear liquid, "it beats being in my apartment and laying on the bed he's slept in."

another drink of grape soju washes down the bitter feeling in your throat, just as mark finishes his own bottle. for a moment, you think he's getting ready to head home after your confession, but he reaches for another without hesitation, handing you the cap when he peels it off.

he nods in encouragement, lips parting to speak, and his voice is soothing when it flows out. unknowingly, he'd say exactly what you needed to hear.

"i don't wanna overstep, and i don't want you to keep thinking about that asshole. he doesn't deserve it. so, instead," he wiggles the cap, "i'll keep you distracted. i will say, though, you don't seem like the kind of person who's easy to move on from."

"you don't even know me," you whisper.

"then take this soju cap, play your turn, and give me the chance to get to know you. your game's pretty fun, stranger, and we've still got a few bottles to get through."

"mark? mark! are you even listening?"

a couch cushion plummets towards him, hitting him upside the head and knocking the glasses off his face. He blinks a few times but he’s clearly still dazed as he turns to face hyuck, a distant look his eyes, "what?" he mumbles.

"dude, you've literally banana-peeled yourself three times in a row. what are you doing?”

bringing the hand that tucks his glasses back on down to rub his chin, mark sighs out, "sorry, just got lost in my thoughts for a second,”

it’s been happening incessantly the last few days–his mind drifting and getting lost in a memory of you. He can’t help but think of you, and each and every flash of your face that crosses his mind makes his heart ache just a little bit more. you haven’t answered his texts and calls, other than the very brief reply you sent this morning where you let him know you need more time to think things over.

it's a very reasonable, exceedingly rational, normal request. in fact, it's exactly what he expected you to say, but still... damn you.

damn you because for two hours straight this morning, mark had typed up at least a dozen different replies, spamming the back space button after each one since none managed to make sense of his disorganized thoughts. he thrashed around in bed, hovered his thumb over the call button a few times, even considered taking his car keys and showing up on your front door. your reply, which he waited nearly 72 hours for, had nearly driven him mad, and it robbed him of sleep for the remainder of the early morning hours.

he almost prefers you hadn’t answered him at all. almost.

“get it together, man! how am i supposed to beat jeno if you’re sabotaging yourself and therefore, my training session? i lost forty bucks to him last week ‘cause i couldn’t beat him at smash, i’m not losing to him again.”

on cue, the sound of the doorknob unlocking and twisting open alerts both boys who turn their heads; instantly, hyuck scoffs at the inconvenient coincidence and mark’s stomach drops in dread.

the other person responsible for his rapidly depleting mood and confidence, the last of the two individuals occupying his every thought–lee jeno.

mark lee has never felt so conflicted and confused in his life. sure, he understands where jeno's coming from; how could he not sympathize with him when he, too, is in the exact same position? still, it's frustrating because he’s pissed off, but he's not even mad at him, or at you, for that matter. he debated it for a while, but turns out he's not mad at himself, either. it's not any less true that he is angry. perhaps, it’s at the universe for its sick and twisted sense of humor.

it fucking hurts that he knows it's no one's fault and yet, he can’t help the way seeing jeno makes him sick to his stomach. to put it plainly, if it wasn't for him, you'd be his, but dwelling on that fact and wishing for the alternative is extremely selfish.

the boy, oblivious to his best friend's inner turmoil, walks in, swinging his gym bag off his shoulder and wiping his shoes on the door mat. he takes a moment to straighten it out since it was folded over, no doubt hyuck's doing.

“hey,” he greets quietly. mark only manages a grunt, but it’s not like jeno would’ve heard it anyway, with the youngest boy jumping up and out of his seat, creating a rattle as he knocks his phone and the remote off the couch.

his index finger shoots forward to point and shout, “you!” jeno looks over, alarmed as hyuck spews instructions, “couch, now. controller in hand. i’m handing your ass to you,”

“in your dreams,” he snorts. the couch dips when he plops down, and less than a second later, mark’s moving to leave. he can't bother to not make it obvious, and jeno's brow creases as he notices.

“yo,” hyuck drags out the syllable in a whine, “where are you going? jeno just got here.”

“he can use my controller, i’m not in the mood to play anymore.” without glancing his way, mark scoots up and passes the controller to jeno who holds an arm out to stop him.

“wait. you alright? you’ve been down the last few days.”

hardly managing the effort to reply, mark blinks at the ground. he says, “m’fine,” but his roommate's not convinced at all. jeno tries insisting again, smacking his lips playfully in one last attempt to lighten the mood.

“come on,” he urges, “stick around for a bit. maybe a few rounds will cheer you up, we can grab some beers and-“

but mark stands anyway, tapping his phone out of habit to turn on the screen, just in case there’s a notification from you. there isn’t.

“i’ll see you guys later, yeah?”

jeno remains silent this time, lips folding downward as his eyes follow mark who walks away. hyuck doesn't offer the same quiet, but his protests are drowned out nonetheless when mark has made it down the hall, shutting his bedroom door behind him.

⋆ ★

“alright, you��ve been warned.”

“come on, there's no way they're that bad,” you roll your eyes, nudging your shoulder into mark’s. he hollers an ‘ow’ at the impact, although it's half-hearted and mixed with a laugh. without giving it a second thought, he pushes you right back, setting you off balance. instinctively, you scramble to reach for his upper arm to keep from falling flat on your ass, and his quick reflexes allow him to grip your wrist and pull you to his chest. his eyes are wide as he stares at you, laughter echoing loudly.

you gasp, but your offense is short-lived. his giggles are contagious and you end up mirroring his expression, settling for smacking his arm instead.

“do you want me to end up in the hospital before i meet your friends?!”

mark only rolls his eyes and shoots you a playful wink, “i’d take it as a sign from the universe that i should gate keep you.” in one motion, he twists the key into the lock and when the apartment door opens, he calls out a hello to his roommates who he explicitly briefed you about on the car ride over.

firstly, he warned you about donghyuck, who he described as a funny, talkative, know-it-all that didn't know how to keep his thoughts to himself. mark also made sure to mention that he'd be probing you mercilessly, poking his nose in your business. "it’s his way of showing he cares," he had said. "reminds me of someone," you had replied, wiggling your eyebrows his way. mark smiled at your indirect compliment, then proceeded to express the fact that him and hyuck were very different, as you would soon come to find out.

then, he told you about jeno, who he claimed was so boyish and shy that it may initially appear like he doesn’t even like you. according to mark, he’s endearingly awkward but a very good, reliable friend. mark also mentioned the sporty boy has one weakness: he's highly susceptible to hyuck’s teasing. he told you how hyuck would pick on him at any given opportunity, then went as far as to say that “the most you’ll hear him talk is when the two of them are arguing,”

as soon as you walk in, it’s easy to immediately tell the two boys apart. the one you presume to be hyuck has his phone drawn to his lips and is yelling out the lyrics to a bruno mars song that plays from a speaker. his limbs are flailing, and he’s jumping in circles around jeno who stands stiff, patiently setting up the solo cups for a game of beer pong.

when they hear you both enter, hyuck is the first to spin on his heel, holding out a hand as if to dedicate the lyrics to his best friend and the girl he’s never met before. he takes shameless strides over before grabbing your hand to spin you in a circle. as soon as he reaches for mark’s waist, your friend recoils away and the two start bickering, leaving you to meet eyes with jeno for the first time.

with a deep breath, one that fails to soothe your hungry lungs and nervous heart, you bring your knuckles up, knocking three times on the apartment door.

when you pulled into the parking lot earlier, you noticed mark’s car was not in his usual spot, a sight that flushed relief through you almost instantly. it’s a strange feeling, because usually, you feel quite the opposite.

these last couple of days make the longest that you and mark have ever gone without talking since you met, and as much as you want to see him, there’s something you need to do first, and it’ll be much easier without him around.

you owe jeno a conversation, and he had been very patient in waiting for your call or text, unlike mark who accounted for more than half of your notifications. finally, you wrote to him today, just over a week after his confession, and asked if you could come over to talk.

it takes about a minute of you shifting your weight between your heels nervously for hyuck to open the door. he instantly moves aside to let you in, a hand holding his phone up to his ear. before walking over to the couch, where he presumably resided before your arrival, given by the snacks and mess of blankets, he nods once at you, then keeps arguing with the person on the other line.

“renjun, you’re insufferable. i’m telling you, there’s no way you can outdrink me.“

their interaction manages to crack a smile on your face, a feat that’s been harder to accomplish recently. as you kick off your shoes, your thumbs move quickly to shoot jeno a text that you’re here and then, you take a seat on the arm rest, returning to your state of nervousness. subconsciously, you bring a nail to your mouth to chew it as hyuck rips open a bag of chips and shoots you a look of disgust, waving at you so you’ll move your hand away. considering how often he bickers with renjun, he’s truly starting to resemble him.

you check your phone again, even though it’s only been a few seconds since you pressed send, and sigh out, continuing to lie in wait.

meanwhile, from the spot on his bed, jeno has a hand resting across his stomach, the other clutching his phone close to his face to watch a stream. the moment the notification of your text drops down, interrupting the league game he was monitoring, he shoots up into a sitting position.

he doesn't intend to make you wait so long, but it takes him a few minutes to head outside because, well, he takes the time to straighten out his bed and shove his running shoes in the closet in effort to tidy things up. jeno’s room is significantly cleaner than the other two boys, but this would be the first time you saw it, and he felt that it should look presentable.

when he deems everything accommodated, he wipes the sweat from his palms and steps outside. As he turns the corner at the end of the hall, his eyes land on you where you sit, fidgeting with your phone and chewing on your lip. for a moment, the air leaves his lungs.

the very first time jeno’s eyes glaze over your person, his train of thought–which was previously making a desperate effort to drown out hyuck's loud voice as he bellowed the lyrics of versace on the floor–is interrupted, halted at once.

all of his thoughts cease, as does his involuntary breathing process, and he has to instantly do a double take your way. you’re already looking back at him, offering a smile so soft and sweet that it provokes his own shy grin to form. the contagious, upward curve of your plump and pink lips is the first of your features that he notices, and his eyes blatantly admire it for a bit. the second thing he lingers on is the particularly dreamy blue hue of your crocheted cardigan as he acknowledges the way it brings out the color of your eyes. it highlights the shade of your smooth skin, and he decides just then that this color was made solely for you.

he can only spare it that single, passing thought, though. his focus is quickly drawn back to your smile, bright and unyielding, and in this moment, only for him.

god, how did he manage to go so long without knowing your smile?

it’s strange, the complicated curiosity that nestles in his chest; it tugs at his heartstrings until the organ is thumping incessantly in his throat. there’s an inexplicable warmth in your gaze, and although he has no idea who you are, he’s already appointed himself humbly at your disposal.

“hi,” you breathe out, voice as polite as the hand you hold out for him to shake, “i’m y/n.”

“hey,” he waves you over and you stand on wobbly legs, walking toward the hall that leads to his room.

he opens his bedroom door and moves aside so you can walk in first, his arm gesturing around, “you can sit on my bed, or on my desk chair. wherever is okay,”

with a hum, you set your bag down on his chair, scooting onto the edge of his bed and hiking your legs up so that you’re sitting criss-crossed. he joins you, sitting at the foot and leaning back on his palms, twisting his torso to face you, somewhat expectantly.

“hey, jen,” you quietly mumble, looking up from your lap to finally meet his round orbs. they’re as kind as ever, and a grin creeps onto his lips before he even opens his mouth to speak.

“i was starting to miss you,” he weakly jokes. although the mood doesn’t lend itself too kindly to humor at the moment, his charm still brings a smile to your face, “you haven’t been around in a bit.”

you nod in acknowledgement, “yeah, i know, it’s just…” the sigh that leaves your lips makes him frown, and he contemplates reaching for your arm, but decides against it. the air is thick, and he’s not entirely convinced the gesture would help soothe your nerves in the slightest.

after a few seconds of silence, jeno picks up on the fact that your trailing off was because you couldn’t seem to find the right words. that, or you didn’t have the heart to say what he assumed you were implying with your hesitance, maybe in an effort to spare his feelings. when you start picking at your nails anxiously, he timidly interrupts the quiet.

“i hope you know that i didn’t mean to make things awkward,” he starts, “i don’t want you to think that you can’t come over because i have feelings for you. you’re still friends with the guys, it’s not fair for you to feel like-”

“no, it’s not your fault! that’s not why i haven’t been over,” he doesn’t miss the way your eyes shift around in thought, and he nods once to let you know he’s waiting and listening.

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” you settle for saying, shoulders slumping slightly, “but i can promise you that it’s not because of your feelings for me.”

there’s a bit of a sadness behind the smile he gives you—despite how much he tries to hide it—as he reaches his conclusion, “i think i’ve figured out by now that you don’t feel the same, and that’s okay,” when you shoot him a look, he only grins at you again, reassuringly, “it’s okay that you don’t like me. you can’t help that,”

the tears that prick at your eyes come as a surprise to both him and you. they come unprecedented and unannounced, beginning to roll down your cheeks as you nudge him and wipe at your face harshly in embarrassment, “you’re not supposed to be comforting me right now,”

“can i?” he asks, ignoring your scolding. when you don’t say no, he guides your hand away, replacing it with his own and using his thumb to swipe away at your warm tear streaks with much more care.

“you know i care for you, right?” you admit in one breath. it’s hard to keep your eyes on him, maybe because of the slight guilt you feel at this moment, consuming your usual confidence. somehow, tearing your gaze away would be worse, because it meant you wouldn’t be able to read whether or not his answer was sincere, and for the sake of calming your heavy heart, you force yourself to keep looking.

slowly, he nods in response, blowing softly on your eyes, “don’t cry, okay? never over me.” even at a time like this, he’s selfless, tending to you with small gestures and actions. you almost feel the need to cry harder, but you meet his request and attempt to pull back your tears.

“you know,” he starts, “the day that we met, the first thing i noticed was your smile. you were beaming, and i wondered in that moment, ‘how did i go so long without your pretty smile in my life?’” instantly, as the words leave his lips, your brow furrows and your eyes squeeze shut.

so much for trying not to cry.

“i looked forward to seeing you everyday from then on. i thought about you while you were away, when i was down… you don’t know how many bad days your smile got me through, so please, don’t cry.”

with a shaky breath, you nod, leaning into his palm that still cradles your face, “you’re so sweet, always have been. i’m sorry that i can’t feel that way about you,”

he presses his lips to your forehead and you wrap your arms around his torso. he responds by squeezing you back, voice quiet and shy by your ear, “I love you–a-and I know you can’t say it back,” he rushes to clarify, “i don’t expect you to. but, i need to say it to you once, and this might be my only chance. i’m gonna be a little selfish and take it.”

the sound you make is somewhere between a strangled sob and a giggle, and he pulls back slowly to look at you. maybe it’s because of the sudden closeness or his attraction to you, but his eyes flicker to your lips.

“could i maybe, o-one last—nevermind, i can’t ask that of you,” his stuttering is barely audible, something like an impulsive thought he caught just before it managed to slip out. his tone is sharp, scolding of himself for even beginning to say it out loud. still, you catch on to his request, and with one hand softly stroking the nape of his neck, you start leaning in.

when your lips first touch his, barely pressing into them, jeno pulls away in a bit of a panic, “you don’t have to-”

“i know. i want to.” his brow lifts when you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “you deserve to give me a kiss that doesn’t have a ten second time limit, or two other people in the room each waiting for a turn. your heart is so big,” you mumble, “i want you to have the chance to kiss me how you want,”

jeno silently kicks himself, because how could he ask you not to cry if his own eyes were beginning to burn?

ever so carefully, his lips hover over yours. he takes his time as he leans closer, wary, giving you ample time to change your mind. when you don’t pull away and instead raise your brow slightly, he gains a bit more confidence.

jeno presses a few soft, opened mouth kisses to your lips, squeezing his eyes tight as he savors his first real and final taste of you. his warm tongue swipes at your bottom lip, but it isn't insistent enough to invite you to deepen the kiss; he doesn’t intend it to be, either. It’s clear that he’s taking it slow.

you can tell the flow of this kiss is being heavily considered, timed to be perfectly tender and easy. his mouth feels smooth, working against yours with only a slight desperation. instinctively, your hand clutches his shoulder as you realize: this might’ve been the kiss he intended to give you that day during the first bet if hyuck hadn’t pressured him.

a kiss so deep and so gentle, where his emotions pour out in the tiny breaths that tickle your face. his fingers disappear into your hairline and massage your scalp, and you can feel his nose pressing deeply into your cheek as he pulls you closer, humming quietly. on that day where he seemed so nervous to have you so close, because of course, it wasn’t just a competition to him, jeno wasn’t able to put his all into kissing you, but right now, it felt like he couldn’t give you any more of himself without physically handing you his heart. at the thought, you sniffle mid-kiss and realize the saltiness you’re tasting is a mix of both of your tears.

as much as he wishes he could continue, he can’t allow himself to be too greedy because kissing you like this and not being able to have you after might just be too much for his fluttering heart to handle. he breaks away, eyes remaining closed as he breathes out. you blink open your eyes before he does. it’s your turn to wipe his cheeks.

“i’m sorry, jen.”

“no,” he clears his throat, “don’t be. and thanks for, well, this.” his hand squeezes yours once, then a second time, and the two of you sit wordlessly for a few moments as everything sinks in, the only sounds being the occasional snivel from either of you.

when you finally move to stretch your legs out you gasp, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror above his dresser. he’s startled for a moment, watching you shoot up from your spot and rush over to wipe your face.

“jeno, why didn’t you tell me i looked like this?!” you squeak out, mascara blotted on and around your eyes. he kinda laughs at you, twisting around to watch your frantic motions in amusement. in seconds, he’s dug into a drawer and he’s handing you a pack of wipes, mumbling something about how he didn’t even notice, which earns him a glare. the tension seems to have eased at once following this interaction, and the mood is lighter as you slip into small talk. you finish swiping away the makeup from your face and when it’s clean, you check the time on your phone and place it on the dresser.

“You know the last time i made your makeup run, you definitely weren’t crying,”

“oh, god,” your face glows red and your hand makes contact with his shoulder, “how embarrassing!”

“sorry, sorry,” he grins timidly, shying away from your blow, “too soon.”

when your laughter dies down, you shoot him a grin.

“i should go soon. it’s getting dark,” he nods once. you swing your bag over your shoulder and head for the door, mumbling something about how the last time you left their place late you were too scared to walk from your parking garage to your apartment, when jeno grabs your forearm.

“wait!” you stop, “can i… can i ask you something?”

flipping around expectantly, you blink and he swallows thickly, as if already knew the answer and didn’t really wanna hear it. either way, the words tumble from his mouth quickly.

probably the most timid he’s sounded tonight, his voice is gravely and reserved when he asks, “is there something going on between you and mark?”

that was not at all what you were expecting him to say. in fact, it’s the one thing you were hoping wouldn’t come up at all today.

you didn’t want to bring up mark for various reasons: firstly, there’s a very fine line between letting jeno in on the detail that mark also likes you–and that you like him–and explaining that that’s why you two can’t be together, and having him think that in telling him, you’re asking for permission to date his best friend. that’s something you’re incapable of even implying, because how fucking heartless and selfish would that be? secondly, you hadn’t even talked to mark yet, and you didn’t even know if the two of them had already discussed it. lastly, this conversation was supposed to be about jeno, and his feelings– and you’d feel like shit if you made it about anybody else.

you can’t help the way your eyes widen at his question, however, and you immediately blurt out “what? no!”

nice. smooth.

jeno cocks a brow up and you inhale shakily, “i mean, not really… or, at least not anymore.” he cocks an eyebrow at you and you purse your lips, shrugging, “i guess… for a moment there almost was, but then-”

“then i confessed,” he nods in understanding. instantly, your eyes snap wide open and you hold an arm out.

“yes, but it’s fine jen, i think it’s better that we didn’t-”

“you don’t,” your shoulders fall as he sighs, reading you like a book, “you don’t think it’s better.” his eyes flicker between yours, but you don’t have it in you to even try and refute him.

“you know,” he starts, “i had a feeling but i wasn’t too sure ‘cause you guys have always been really close.”

“jeno…”

there’s a lingering moment of silence, and you almost fear the mood has become sour and tense once more. you can’t seem to find your voice, or any words for that matter, and jeno walks closer until he’s less than a few feet away. he looks like he’s deep in thought for a flashing second, before his shoulders relax and he speaks up.

“I think you should be together,” there’s no reluctance in his tone, no bitterness either, “not that you need my okay, because you don’t. but, if you’re worried about me, don’t be. i’ll be fine, I promise. besides, i’d hate to be the reason the two of you are forced to settle for a ‘what if.’”

“just um,” he continues and for the first time, he speaks meekly, “give me a bit of time to recover before you guys start rubbing your happiness all over me,”

oh.

speechless and gawking at him with wide eyes, it takes a long minute before you manage to muster up a reply. jeno could have changed his mind a dozen times over by then. your heart is beating noticeably faster, sitting in your throat like a lump.

“no,” you decide, “i can’t just do that to you.”

“it’s okay, y/n. i mean it. and thanks for coming by to talk abou-”

“no, no,” you shake your head, “you don’t get it, i can’t–i won't do that to you, it’s not fair,”

“I’d feel worse if you didn’t,” he admits, “like i’m keeping you from something. mark’s my best friend, so are you. what isn’t fair is keeping you guys from each other.” his eyes gleam sympathetically, and you blink a few times at him, “call him. talk to him, at least. he’s been down for a few days now. won’t come out of his room much while he’s home.”

you nod slowly, “okay, i’ll do that,”

“think about it, yeah?”

“jeno, get dressed!” hyuck’s voice comes as a bit of a surprise as he bellows, stomping down the hall and towards his room, passing by jeno’s on the way, “we’re going for drinks with renjun. can you believe that fucker thinks he can drink more than me? and jaemin agrees! man, you think you know a guy,” his voice is slightly muffled now that he’s in his room, but he’s still yelling out, “my pride is hurt, so hurry up! we’re leaving in 10,”

“besides, i’ve got hyuck to tend to. don’t know what he would do if my attention wasn’t on him all the time,”

you stifle a laugh and weakly suggest, “crash and burn. come on, walk me out?” and jeno gives you a wide smile.

“o‘course,”

⋆ ★

if looks could kill, the scowl on mark’s face would’ve been your demise. he’s staring at you from the doorway of his front door, just as surprised to see you as you are to see him.

nothing about today has gone right. it wasn’t until you got home last night that you realized you had left your phone on jeno’s dresser and by that time, it was too late to go back. more than likely, he didn’t notice either, or he would’ve dropped it off before going out for drinks. so, naturally, you had to stop by today to get it back.

you barely had time to think things over in regards to mark; part of you insists should continue to avoid him until you figure shit out–which obviously isn’t a possibility anymore since he’s standing right in front of you–and another part, was left tossing and turning in bed until the early hours of the morning, worried that mark would call or text you about something important and you wouldn’t be able to answer.

that doesn’t matter now, anyway. mark is standing a foot away, eyes low and emotionless. he looks like he hasn’t had a proper sleep in days, and you don’t doubt that you look very different yourself.

you’re the first to speak, mumbling a small, “hi,” which makes his chest rise and fall in a long sigh at the familiar sound of your voice–a sound that he missed dearly.

“hi.”

“i-” you start to speak again, before you realize, you have no idea what to say.

are you supposed to apologize for dropping by unannounced or explain that the reason you couldn’t announce your visit was because you had left your phone here the day before? perhaps, he’s expecting an apology for the way you’ve been ignoring him, leaving him in the dark the last couple of days and refusing to reply to his many, many attempts to reach out. you’re not sure if he knew what happened yesterday, either. the point is: if all of these are things you need to say to him, which are you meant to say first?

mark blinks at you until you offer him a sad, lopsided smile and shyly ask, “can i come in?”

he doesn’t respond; instead, he brings a fist up to rub his tired eyes and moves aside to let you in.

“m’sorry,” you mumble, placing your bag down and slipping off your shoes. mark walks past you and sits on the couch a few feet away, brows slightly pinched down, “for a few things,” you mutter.

“i’m sorry, too,” he sighs, and you blink at him in surprise.

“for what?”

“for how i reacted the last time we were together. i couldn’t see things from your point of view until i really thought it through, and… you were right,” he admits defeatedly, voice hushed. “i’m also sorry for not being able to give you space when you asked for it. It’s just–you just mean a lot to me and the idea of you not wanting to talk to me really freaked me out.”

“mark,” you coo softly. your feet carry you over to sit beside him, scooting closer until the two of you are shoulder to shoulder, knees bumping. when your lips part, your voice is airy and quiet, “you mean so, so much to me. I’m glad you didn’t give me space, i would’ve thought you hated me or something,”

“i could never hate you,” he’s still looking at his lap, at the spot where his hands have come up to fidget mindlessly with his drawstrings.

“–and sorry for not replying. that was childish of me,”

mark lightly shakes his head, “no, dude, i get it.”

“–and i would’ve mentioned i was dropping by, but i left my phone in jeno’s room after i came yesterday-“

“it’s fine, really—wait, you were here yesterday? with jeno?” his head snaps up.

“yeah, last night around seven.”

“you were in his room?”

“yes?”

mark scoffs, a puff of air leaving his lips sharply.

truly, mark didn’t mean to scoff. he meant to ask you “oh, how come?” or “hey, why you didn’t tell me?” but his questions are answered by his subconscious, and he’s not sure he liked what it had to say. he’d really like to think you didn’t come to—no. you wouldn’t… right?

before he can add anything else, your expression twists into one of offense.

“it wasn’t like that, mark.” you snap and he scoffs, again.

“right, i’m sure it wasn’t.”

instantly, you shoot up from your seat, arms crossing defensively, “it wasn’t,” you stress. mark runs a hand through his hair, huffing discontentedly, and you blink at him, “i just came to talk to him.”

“before talking to me? i’m your best friend,” he replies.

“yeah, but you’re not the one who had their feelings completely shot down,”

mark stands to his full height, too, an incredulous look in his eyes, “oh, i’m not? he told you he liked you and you immediately changed your mind about us!”

“that didn’t change my mind about us, mark. but honestly? this might,” you gesture between the two of you and spin on your heel to start making your way down the hall, “forget it. i’ll just get my phone and go,”

with a huff, mark shoots up.

“y/n,” he calls, but you ignore him. when you reach jeno’s bedroom door, you push it open and snatch your phone from the dresser. it was still in the very same spot you left it in, meaning hyuck probably dragged jeno out in a hurry. jeno also wasn’t here, which you were very grateful for right about now… it would have very been awkward to barge into his room if he was.

you make a move to leave, but mark is hot on your trail, and when you turn back around, you almost bump right into his chest, “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean-” he tries, but you cut him off.

“do you really think i’d do that to you? tell me, honestly.”

“i don’t,” he answers quickly. at the sight of tears pooling in your eyes, mark winces, and his arms wrap around you. you consider fighting his grip, but the truth is, you didn’t really want to.

“i’m sorry, i’m so, so sorry,” he chants into your hair, holding you tightly against him, “i was just upset that you didn’t come to me first, but i swear didn’t mean any of that. don’t even know why i said it, fuck.”

your voice is no louder than a muffled squeak, “i just–i came to tell him i was sorry and that i didn’t feel the same way.”

mark’s breathing calms, and he squeezes you a bit tighter.

“he asked about you, you know, about us. wanted to know if we were a thing,”

“what did you say?” he asks gently, curiously, as to not come off any more accusatory than he already has.

you pull back to look up at him and sniffle, “that we almost were, or that we would’ve been if–anyway, he said he was okay with us being together. and i was going to tell you,” you stress, “i just wanted to wait until all the tension died down; until after we talked and he had a chance to move on. I didn’t think our talk would go like this, though”

as you finish speaking, mark presses his lips deeply into your forehead, repeating his apology softly. they linger there for a moment before he replaces them with his nose. he then leans down to press his forehead against yours, although he doesn’t move to take anything further.

the tears that coat your eyelashes and stick them together make his heart clench within the confines of his ribs. he decides just then that the sight of you crying is his least favorite one.

both of his hands hold your cheeks, inviting you to look up and into his eyes, “i need you to know that the most important thing to me, like, ever, is you. I know i haven’t done a great job of making that clear today,” he whispers, “but whatever you decide you want to do, and however slowly you wanna do it, i’m there.”

and then, you utter out the last set of words he thought he would be hearing from you in this moment.

“i want to be with you,” at first, he thinks he may have misheard you, but when you nuzzle your cheek into his open palm and grab at his shirt to tug him closer, his breath hitches.

“what?”

“i still want to be with you,” you repeat, a little quieter this time. the tips of your ears have gone hot, “if you want to, i mean,”

“i do,” he replies quickly, nodding, “i do, of course i do.”

he lets his thumb brush your cheek, eyes dropping to your lips, they fly back to yours in a flash for any bit of hesitation, but he finds none.

slowly, he leans in, and the very moment his lips take their place against yours, the tension in your shoulders dissipates. your knees buck, but he’s quick to slide an arm around your waist and hold you up. when his chest presses to yours, he wonders if you can feel his heart pounding. what he doesn’t know, is that you’re thinking the very same thing.

your hands slip under his shirt, wandering along the expanse of his lower back. his skin is warm under your touch, and he can’t hold back the hum he feeds your parted lips when your nails dig their little crescent moons into him.

“mark,” you whimper, but he doesn’t break the kiss even for a moment. he’d literally rather die.

what he does do, is lean so far into your touch that the two of you stumble back into the wall, where his hand comes up to hold your head to block the impact.

“let’s-mmm,” he kisses you again, lips smacking loudly against yours, “t’your…room,”

He slightly nods to let you know he understood, “yeah,”

the two of you spin around until it’s you who’s slightly guiding him in the direction of his bedroom. when he hits the door, he reaches an arm back for the doorknob and twists it open, all but pulling you inside. and, finally, the two of you break apart for air, chests heaving wildly and pupils blown completely wide.

he’s a pretty sight, gazing at you sweetly with heavy lids. a bit of spit hangs behind on the corner of mark’s mouth and you laugh softly, stealing another kiss and using your thumb to wipe it away. you let your hand stay there, pressed right against his warm cheek, and mark squeezes your hip.

“i love you,” he utters suddenly.

“yeah?”

“yeah.” he nods.

“me, too. i love you, so much,” you reply, and his eyes disappear as he grins so wide that his nose scrunches up. his cheeks start flushing red and he dives down to hide his face in your neck. while his laughter tickles, it’s nowhere near the sensation of the kisses he leaves behind, wet and trailing along your shoulder and chest. you gasp softly when his teeth graze you and he pulls back.

“yo,” a small hum leaves your lips in reply and he shakes his head slightly, “i think you’ve gotta be the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen,”

he kisses you again before you manage to respond to his compliment, walking with you until the back of your knees hits the edge of his bed. when you sit down and scoot back, mark settles between your legs, using his hand to hike your right leg up and around his waist.

“take this off,” you mumble, tugging until the white shirt he wears is up and over his head. mark wastes no time in peeling your top off, too, large hands grabbing a hold of your hip and waist and breasts, all the while his mouth attaches to your skin. here, he stays for a bit, licking and nibbling as he pleases.

there’s a warmth between your legs now, all of your nerves tingling as you lift your hips, hoping you’ll brush yourself against his front or his thigh. there’s no doubt in your mind that you’ve soaked through your panties.

“i can’t believe i have you all to myself now, fuck,”

“mark,”

“yes?”

“please..”

“please what, baby?” he coos, lifting his head up. behind, he leaves a purple mark on the part of your breast that pudges out of the cup of your bra.

the sight makes you drool, “i need you, please. do something, anything,” nothing about your actions implies you have even a slight bit of patience left, and this doesn’t go unnoticed.

mark is gawking at you, lip tucked between his teeth harshly. he considers teasing you a bit more, but your pretty eyes that plead with him are too hard to not appease.

it’s short and sweet, the way he smiles and lands his lips on your cheek with a pop. at the same time, his hips meet yours, pulling a strangled moan from your throat. you claw at his shoulders, looking down to watch the way he rolls into you, dick swollen and bulging under the constraint of his pants.

every inch of him presses onto you, your legs sneakily wrapping tighter around him. mark grunts and cups your jaw, pulling your mouth open slightly.

“stick your tongue out for me,” he instructs.

when your eyes blink up at him curiously and your tongue sticks out, mark smirks, letting the spit he’s accumulated drop. the free hand that was previously wandering unhooks the top button of your bottoms, slipping inside to cup your heat.

somehow, it’s still not nearly enough. every touch makes you jolt in desperation, writhing beneath his hold. mark lets his lips mold over yours again, freely exploring your mouth, his middle finger continuously running over your underwear to feel your arousal.

“so wet,” he says against your lips. you nod eagerly, grinding into his hand.

“all for you, baby,”

“you want my mouth? or my fingers? tell me how you want me,”

when you shake your head, mark leans further back, confused, “baby,” you plead, “no foreplay, i need you inside of me so bad,”

“i need to prep you, doll,”

“i’m already so worked up, look,” you insist, shimmying your shorts down. you grab his hand and move your underwear aside, pressing his fingers into you so that he can feel for himself.

“shit… you’re dripping,”

“please,” you whine out.

“are you sure?”

“mark, yes. i’m literally begging you to fuck me.”

“okay,” he laughs, “so needy, pretty girl,” a sloppy kiss is placed over your lips as he pulls off his joggers and underwear, your panties practically yanked off. you make quick work of your bra, unclipping it and tossing it aside. when his attention is back on you, his gaze falls to your chest in admiration.

“you’re perfect, all for me. all mine, baby.” he brushes your hair behind your ear and reminds you, “ i love you,”

“i love you, but please, please,”

with a breathy laugh, mark lines himself up with your entrance. his thumb guides the head of his cock down until he’s collected some of your slick, a task that proves slightly difficult with your restless squirming.

he’s about to order you to stay still when he presses into you and momentarily forgets how to speak. a shiver goes down his spine, and his eyes roll back at the feeling of sinking into your walls.

you moan out loudly and mark hisses, desperately trying not to finish early.

the stretch doesn’t even hurt as much as you thought it would, but it does take some adjusting on both ends–you’re fluttering around him helplessly, sensitive and susceptible to his every move; meanwhile, mark’s tip continues slipping out and bumping your clit, before he manages to push himself back in.

“mmph, baby, you’re pushing me out,”

“m’sorry,” you pant, “can’t help it,”

he manages to bottom out as you pull your knees to your chest. intrigued by your position, he grabs your calves to settle them over his shoulders, pushing you into a sort of mating press, one where he can still look down to where your bodies meet. it’s fucking dirty, the way you’re practically leaking, juices flowing down your ass and gathering on his sheets.

with another experimental thrust, your pussy squelches and tightens around him. mark grunts out mindlessly, “i could fuck you forever,” and you nod, agreeing.

with every slow roll of his hips, your breathing grows more shallow. the angle he’s fucking you in is absolutely insane. there’s no containing the whimpers that fall from your lips when his fingers find your clit, rubbing slow circles on your sensitive bud.

“more, g-go faster, i can take it,”

he obliges immediately, rocking into you harder, and you realize how close you’ve actually been this whole time. you’re so turned on from the mere intimacy of this moment that in seconds, your jaw has gone slack, pleasure coursing through your body until it numbs your fingertips.

your mind is blank, and all you can manage to blabber are a few weak and strained chants of his name, followed by a string of praises and “i love you’s.”

mark’s orgasm follows soon after, despite the way he tries so hard to hold it off. he tries to bite your leg as a distraction, or pinch your pointed nipple, anything to try to prolong the moment and work you until you’re pleasantly overstimulated, but it’s too late, because his breath has gotten caught in his throat.

his thrusts begin stuttering, his eyes are squeezed shut, and he’s coming so, so hard that his fingers are turning white where they grip your waist.

if he prepped you, he might have lasted just a tad longer, but he didn’t. mark knew he was done for the moment he entered you and you clenched around him.

“fuck yes, take it, baby, take it,” his cum shoots out in spurts within your folds and and he stops holding himself up, burrying himself all the way in your cunt, dick twitching uncontrollably.

“you’re unbelievable,” he praises, working to steady the pace of his breathing.

a lazy grin finds your swollen lips, “that was really good,” you mutter, tiredly looking up at him through glossed over eyes.

as he moves to lean back, you make a noise of complaint, but he’s quick to soothe you.

“shh, don’t worry. i’m only making sure you’re comfortable,” he brings your legs down from his shoulders so they can rest at his sides, and the ache you feel instantly be relieved makes you very grateful for his consideration. he doesn’t dare pull out, though, basking in your warmth until he’s gone completely soft.

“you’re mine, yeah?”

“yes, baby,” you agree contently, tucking back a few strands of his hair so they don’t fall in his eyes, which bore at yours so tenderly.

“alright,” he kisses you, “and i’m yours,”

ੈ♡˳

a/n: sorry it was a few minutes late. thank you to everyone who has supported this series. i hope you found it worthwhile <3 sidenote: if theres any mistakes pls forgive me omfg

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