#chop chop tyler | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

briefinquiries · 3 months ago

Text

Tyler Owens x Reader: Don't Take Him

Request: Anonymous said: "hi! oh my gosh i love your tyler x reader writings so much. could you do one where the reader is watching the tornado wrangler's livestream while they're chasing and suddenly it cuts out & she's worried something happened to tyler? with just fluff and angst and all that? thank you <3"

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: angst

A/N: I'm afraid i'm officially down bad for tyler owens (and glen powell). send help.

The notification popped up on your phone while you were cooking dinner in the kitchen.

The Tornado Wranglers started a live video. Watch it before it ends!

You rolled your eyes and smirked. Tyler and his stupid channel, you thought.

After wiping your hands on a dish towel, you swiped your thumb across the notification, letting it take you to their feed.

Boone’s face was the first you saw. His goofy, contagious grin flashed across the screen. “Alright, it’s rollin’,” he said, flipping the camera to show Tyler in the driver’s seat. “How we feelin’ today, T?”

Tyler beamed, his smile causing his eyes to crinkle the way you loved so much. As annoying as it was to constantly be competing with tornadoes for Tyler’s affection, you had to admit that his passion was admirable.

“Oh, we’re feelin’ pretty good, Boone– why don’t you show the viewers what we’re chasin’ today!”

The screen panned over towards the windshield, showing the storm ahead. The footage was a little grainy, but the impending storm in the distance was obvious.

“Ain’t she a beaut?” Boone marveled.

“Now y’all got fireworks last week– this week what do you say we give rockets a go?” Tyler said, just as Boone turned the camera back on him.

“Idiots,” you mumbled to yourself, shaking your head. You rested your phone against the utensil jar, propping it up so that you could continue to maneuver around the kitchen and listen at the same time.

After a while, you got lost in the recipe you were trying, tuning out your boyfriend and his friends.

“Alright, Boone– Lilly?” Tyler said as you continued to chop the vegetables on the cutting board in front of you. “You ready?”

“Oh, I’m ready!” you heard Lilly chime back.

“Here we go, folks– as always, don’t try this at home!”

You briefly turned your attention back towards the video as they began actively driving into the tornado, your view limited to Boone’s shaky camera work as Tyler’s driving undoubtedly turned chaotic.

To avoid motion sickness, you looked back towards the food in front of you.

“She’s gettin’ close, boys!” Lilly yelled.

You heard their collective cheers and hollers.

“Anchoring time–” Tyler said.

There was a brief pause before you heard Boone. “Hit the button, T–”

“I am hitting the button,” Tyler said firmly.

“Tyler–” Lilly said. It was the hint of urgency in her tone that had you looking back towards your phone again.

“It’s jammed–” Tyler said. “Here, gimme the screwdriver.”

Boone had clearly ceased thinking about camera angles. All you saw was the edge of Tyler’s face in the corner of the screen.

“Tyler, we gotta lock it down–”

“I know, Boone. I’m tryin’ here– the damn button’s stuck again.”

“Guys–” Lilly warned.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched the frame.

“Guys, it’s getting closer.”

“I know–” Tyler said. “Boone, move your hand.”

“C’mon, man, let me try–”

“I’m telling you, it’s stuck–”

“Look out!” you jumped at Lilly’s sudden scream, followed by the sound of a loud bang, that echoed even through the screen.

“Oh shit–” Boone yelled, camera flying.

You grabbed your phone urgently, but all you could see was the ceiling of Tyler’s truck. Suddenly, gear was flying through the screen– almost as if the truck was flipping. You held your breath, panic and dread flooding through your entire body as you watched helplessly.

“Hang on to someth–” Tyler’s voice was suddenly cut off along with Boone’s feed.

The Tornado Wranglers live stream has ended.

Even after their video went dark, you continued staring at your phone– like you were hoping Boone would pop back up any second, laughing like this was some sick, twisted joke.

Except you waited– and waited, and Boone never popped back up.

And neither did Tyler.

Frantically, you pulled up your contacts and clicked on Tyler’s name. You had an unspoken agreement that no matter what he was doing during a chase– if you called, he answered.

So that’s exactly what you did.

But your nerves weren’t settled. In fact, you stopped breathing all together when Tyler’s phone went straight to voicemail– something he swore he’d never do.

Hoping that he just had bad service, you called a second time– and then a third. But each time you heard Tyler’s voice telling you to leave a message at the beep, you felt the pool of panic inside of you rising higher and higher.

“C’mon Tyler,” you muttered to yourself.

Stupidly, you let your hopes get up when Lilly’s phone actually rang. But when that went to voicemail too, your hopes just about shattered. You didn’t even bother to try Boone– he may have been the camera guy, but he almost never had his own phone within reach.

After your fifth attempt to reach Tyler, you finally did leave a message.

“Hey, it’s me. I was watching the livestream when it cut out and I–” your voice cracked, causing you to stop and take a shaky breath. “Listen, I just need to know that you’re okay. So please call me back.”

With that, you hung up the phone, setting it on the counter after finally realizing it probably wouldn’t be beneficial to try calling him a sixth time– no matter how badly you wanted to. You stared ahead out the window that was over the sink. It was blue skies where you were– just a few wispy, thin clouds overhead. Nothing that remotely resembled what Tyler had just driven through.

You didn’t even know where he was chasing today. You’d meant to ask when he’d called you last night from his motel room, but you’d gotten distracted by the dog whining to go out and ultimately forgot. Now, you had no way to contact him and no idea where he was…

Suddenly, a sob bubbled in your throat. Before you could filter or control it, you were letting out a shaky gasp– shoulders shuddering as you gripped the edge of the counter and doubled over.

You felt it everywhere– from your mind down to your toes, your entire body reacted to the cruel, impossible idea of something happening to Tyler.

Maybe he was fine, you told yourself. Maybe Boone just dropped his phone and the feed cut– But even as the thought crossed your mind, you knew it was ridiculously unlikely. You saw those things go flying– you heard Lilly’s scream.

Maybe the car flipped, maybe it was crushed.

Maybe Tyler was pulled right from his seat, tossed into the oncoming storm.

Maybe he was hit with flying debris, his body mangled and bruised and broken–

“No,” you whimpered to yourself, shaking your head. “No, no, no– please– please don't take him, please don't take him.”

You weren't even sure who you were pleading to, all you knew was that you couldn’t imagine Tyler not being okay. He was the strong one– always steady, always certain. He was your rock, the person you leaned on for absolutely everything. And the idea of him being hurt somewhere was unfathomable. Tyler didn’t get scared– Tyler didn’t get hurt. Tyler drove into oncoming tornadoes and stayed strong.

To your absolute despair, all you could do in the upcoming hours while you waited for any sort of news, was hope to God that was still the case.

Eventually, you found a home on the kitchen floor– back against the cabinets and knees hugged tightly to your chest to try and withstand the dread raging inside of you.

…

Tyler put his truck in park outside of the house before running a hand through his damp, windblown hair. After the day he’d had, he’d never been happier to be home.

It wasn’t the first time he’d flipped in the truck. Thanks to the roll cage, they wound back upright with next to no damage– but Tyler knew it’d been his fault. The stupid rods had malfunctioned again– something Tyler had been meaning to take a look at for the past month. Except every time they got stuck, he’d managed to fix the jam before the storms actually hit. But this time, he’d been too late.

Luckily, his two passengers were even bigger adrenaline junkies than he was. The truck had barely landed back on its wheels before Boone was hollering and pounding his fist against the ceiling in excitement. And Lilly wasn’t far behind him. Meanwhile, all Tyler could do was look down at his shattered cell phone and hope to hell you wouldn’t need to reach him for the rest of the night.

As soon as Tyler walked through the front door of your shared house, he noticed signs of you everywhere. The lamp near your reading chair was turned on, and the blanket you always used was strewn across the couch messily. He noticed the mug resting on the coffee table, thinking to himself that it was almost certainly half full of the tea you always insisted on making at night but never finished.

He smiled to himself, as he bent over to untie his muddy boots, eager to spend the rest of his night holding you close.

He had barely managed to toe off his final boot when he heard shuffling from the kitchen.

“Tyler?”

He could instantly tell that something was off– your voice sounded so muffled and choked up.

“Hey,” he said, turning to offer you a smile. But it faded from his face at the sight of you. Your body was trembling, shoulders slumped and arms wound tightly around yourself. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy from what looked like hours of crying.

“Baby?” he said.

In response, you covered your mouth and hunched over just in time for a sob to escape your lips.

Instantly, Tyler’s stomach dropped to the floor.

“Hey,” he said, hurrying forward. He hesitated, hands hovering near your shoulders. He’d never seen you like this– so fragile and broken and obviously devastated over something. But he had no fucking idea what it was– which meant, he had no fucking idea how to fix it.

Your hair had fallen in your face, but he could still see the tears rolling steadily down your rosy cheeks as you gasped for air.

“Hey,” he repeated gently, tilting his head down so that he was closer to your height.

“I-I saw– And I thought–” you stammered frantically, jumping to the next sentence without finishing the first.

In that moment, Tyler decided against his earlier hesitation and risked reaching for you. Just standing there and watching you fall apart went against every instinct he had– he wanted to protect you, keep you safe from anything that could cause this kind of harm.

But as soon as his hands grazed your shoulder, Tyler knew that he’d made the wrong choice. The moment he made contact, you lunged forward– hands planting themselves on his chest before you gave him a shove.

“You asshole!” you yelled through a sob.

Tyler staggered backwards– more from being caught off guard by your sudden burst of anger, than from how hard you pushed him.

But he barely had time to recover before you were lunging for him a second time. Using what little energy you had, you shoved him again. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” you shouted.

Tyler took a simple step back, eyes scanning the length of you– trying to decide what the hell he should do. When you attempted to push him for a third time, your arms barely had any energy left in them.

“Hey–” he breathed, gripping your wrists when they landed on his chest a fourth time.

“Let go of me!” you yelled, wiggling from his grasp. “You’re an asshole, Tyler!”

“Stop,” he begged, releasing your wrists to wrap his arms around your shoulders. You fought his hold, fists colliding with his chest instead. But this time, he didn’t let go.

“No!” you sobbed, but he could already feel you slowing down. Not like your shoves or fists hurt before, but with each pound, the impact grew lighter and lighter.

“Stop,” he repeated, forcing you to his chest, despite your resistance. You were pushing him away– but everything about your demeanor screamed that you needed his comfort.

Finally, whether it was his persistence or your exhaustion, you gave up fighting and let your body melt against his.

Tyler planted one palm between your shoulder blades firmly and used the other to cup the back of your neck, anchoring you to him securely. As soon as Tyler tightened his hold on you, you erupted into a fit of sobs– like all the dam inside of you needed was just a little bit of pressure to break. The trembling turned into violent shaking, and you began gripping at the fabric of his t-shirt like your life depended on it.

And Tyler had no fucking idea what to do–

So, he did the only thing he could do, which was hold onto you tightly and let you stain the front of his plain gray shirt with your tears.

“I got you, baby,” Tyler whispered as he pressed a lingering kiss against the top of your head. “You’re okay, I got you.”

Eventually, he heard you take a ragged breath and pull away just enough to look up at him. Tyler cupped your jaw with his large hand and used his thumb to stroke your cheek. “Talk to me,” he pleaded.

You bit down on your quivering lip before speaking. “I-I was watching– I was watching Boone’s livestream when it cut out– and then, your phone– I couldn’t reach you. I- I called like– so many times, but you didn’t answer– I thought– I thought something had happened– I thought you were hurt– or-or worse–”

“Oh, baby,” Tyler exhaled, guilt spreading through him at the thought of you having to see whatever got streamed from the accident earlier. He was the reason you were so distraught in your shared kitchen at eleven o’clock. He was the reason your eyes were red rimmed and swollen. He was the reason your cheeks were stained with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

“I thought I was gonna get a phone call– from the hospital or- or your mom or something– I didn’t think you’d- I didn’t think you’d come home, I thought you died,” You broke on the last admission, like something inside of you had cracked. You collapsed in on yourself, hunching over and wracking with heaving sobs.

Tyler pulled you back into his embrace, like he was the only thing preventing you from drowning. Gradually, his soft touch and gentle murmurs brought you to the surface again.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he repeated, lips ghosting along your temple. “I’m right here. I’m okay.”

“But- the truck– it flipped–”

He nodded above you. “It did– I couldn’t get the screws bolted down in time. But we have the cage, the truck rolled right back upright. Everyone is fine. I mean, Boone might have a few loose screws, but there’s no tellin’ if that’s from the rolled truck–”

Your tone immediately hardened as you sharply pulled back again. “Are you seriously making jokes right now, Tyler?”

And truthfully, Tyler wasn’t entirely sure how to react. He looked down at you pathetically, chest aching to see you so upset. You being this angry with him was uncharted territory.

“You could have died!” you said loudly. “I know you think you are, but you’re not invincible, Tyler! This isn’t some movie where you get to drive into tornadoes completely unscathed ten times out of ten. This is our lives! I-I mean, what the hell were you thinking?”

”Everything’s okay–”

“Everything is not okay! I’m not okay! Do you know how helpless I felt? Watching that stupid livestream? I tried to call, but– but you didn’t answer, I couldn’t do anything but wait here! I mean, what if that had been me? What if you’d seen a video of me crashing my car– and then had no way to reach me? What if you had to spend all night wondering if you were going to get a call that I was dead in a ditch God-only-knows-where?”

For once, Tyler had no response. Because the truth was, he knew everything you were saying was right. He’d be equally angry and frustrated and horrified if the tables were turned.

You wiped the tear falling down your cheek, lip quivering. “I– I can’t live in a world without you in it, Tyler. I really can’t–”

In the deafening silence, he sighed. “I know,” he said quietly, stepping forward to bring you back into his embrace. He was surprised when you willingly let him wrap his arms around you, head falling to rest on his chest.

Tyler’s hand ran through your hair. “I know. I’m okay, baby. I’m right here, I got you.”

He was okay. He was alive and he was right here– you could hear his heartbeat beneath you– feel his breath against the side of your neck. He was alive and unharmed.

You kept your eyes closed and tried to memorize the sound of his heartbeat. You let it seep into the cracks of your heart and heal whatever had been broken in the last few hours of worrying– wondering if he was alive. You focused on the way his arms felt around you– impossibly warm, and so, so safe.

Gradually, your breathing and your mind slowed. Until all that was left was Tyler.

Your voice was shaky when you finally pulled away. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” you exhaled. “I didn’t like not being able to reach you.”

Tyler’s hand stroked your hair gently, “Baby, I’m so sorry I made you worry– my phone broke when we rolled. I’ll get a new one tomorrow, I promise.”

You nodded slowly and placed your hand against Tyler’s chest.

“You okay?” he asked.

You blinked a few times, realizing how tired you were. “Yeah–” you said, nodding. You felt Tyler’s heartbeat beneath your palm.

Each beat reminding you that he was here and he was alive and he was okay.

“Can you–” your voice cracked slightly, making you wince. “Can you please just stay with me the rest of the night? I just–” you glanced down at the floor, embarrassed to admit how much you needed him. “I just need to be close to you tonight.”

Tyler’s eyes softened. “Of course, baby. Where else would I be?”

You nodded slowly.

Tyler grabbed your hand and led you towards the couch. He took the blanket you’d left sprawled out from earlier and wrapped it around your shoulders before pulling you down beside him. He laid back against the cushions and made a spot for you. Without even hesitating, you curled up between his legs and rested your head back against his chest.

“I need you to promise me you’ll be careful,” you pleaded. “I know you love chasing, and I’d never ask you to give that up, but I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you.”

You felt Tyler sigh beneath you, his chest rising and falling steadily. “I promise.”

“And I need you to promise me you’ll get those damn screws fixed. That’s like the third time this month you’ve told me that they’ve jammed.”

You felt his chest rumble as he chuckled softly. “I will. Believe it or not, I didn’t like rolling in my truck, either.”

You lifted your head from his chest so that you could get a good look at Tyler’s face. Even after all these years with him, he still managed to leave you breathless.

“Well then maybe it’s time you take a break and just stay home for a little while,” you teased, lips curling into a soft smile.

The corner of Tyler’s lips tugged upward as his green eyes sparkled under the dim light. “You know what, that might not be a bad idea.”

You raised your eyebrow skeptically. You knew you shouldn’t get your hopes up, and yet, that was exactly what you did. “Really?”

Tyler’s hand tucked a loose strand of your hair from your face before his thumb grazed across your wet cheek. He nodded sincerely. “Really.”

You were a mess– eyes puffy, lips cracked. You were exhausted and so shaken up from everything that had happened. And who knew how long Tyler would have to put extra effort into helping make you feel safe.

But right now, wrapped in his embrace on your shared couch, all you needed was him.

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

976 notes · View notes

mickandmusings · 2 months ago

Text

no caller id

pairing: javi rivera x f!reader, tyler owens x f!reader

word count: 2.6k

summary: she had been there alongside javi the day that their three best friends' lives had been taken. when kate took off to new york and javi to wherever the military took him, she felt mostly alone back in oklahoma. until a handsome chaser blew through town with an ef-3 and stole her heart. things were going great, she was finally happy. until that all too familiar contact flashes across her phone at 3am.

two times javi fell asleep in her sheets, only for her to wake up alone, and the one time she finally realized she would never wake up alone again.

warnings: angsty, mega angsty; no use of y/n; mentions of death and grief; grief is really a big theme here; reader is described wearing a dress; no detailed smut but it's implied

*based on megan moroney’s ‘no caller id’

Two months.

It had taken Javi two months after the accident to call her. Two months after she found out alongside him her three closest friends had died. Two months after attending three funerals in the span of one week. Two months since she decided to start therapy for the grief and survivors guilt. Two months since she had heard anything about his life.

She didn't blame him, not really, none of the three of them that had survived seemed to talk to one another. She had called Kate a month beforehand, but she hadn't responded. Her texts were opened but never responded to. Kate had arguably taken it harder than her or Javi, so she didn't bother her. Javi, however, him ignoring her burned like fire.

Before it all went to shambles, they had a sort of more-than-friends relationship. She piled into the passenger side of his van on nearly every chase, helped him man the data collection, helped him take care of Dorothy every time she began to fall apart. She sat at the dinner table of his small apartment to help him with his research on his findings, and knew his gas station order by heart. They danced around his kitchen to his dance playlist, and he made her laugh harder than anyone. Addy had always joked that Javi had feelings for her, but she'd been so blind to his advances that she'd never even realized.

But tonight, two months after all of it, his name had flashed across her phone screen, the same corny heart behind it that she'd never deleted since he first put his number in her phone.

Javi <3: You in town?

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Javi had skipped town after everything, Kate following behind him. She had been the only one left in their small town in Oklahoma. She picks up the device and her thumbs hover over the keyboard for a while before she responds:

Yeah. You too?

She sets the phone down, thinking he wouldn't respond for a while. Javi had always been a notoriously bad texter. But only a minute later it vibrates with a new message.

Javi <3: For tonight. Meet me at The Shack in an hour?

The Shack was a local bar, only ten minutes from her house. Her heart hammers, why was he in town for only the night? And more importantly, why did he want to see her after months of not bothering to check on her? Her fingers hover over the 'send' button, the simple word typed up: 'busy.' She wanted to be angry, to resent him for not bothering to call, but her heart softens, and she deleted the message. Instead, she sends a thumbs up emoji and tosses her phone back on the couch. Despite her excitement, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was a bad idea.

As she walks into the tiny but crowded bar, she tries to spot Javi, but she can't find his curls draping over his shoulders, or pulled into a bun behind his head. She almost gives up until she hears his voice.

"I'm right here."

She turns, and, sure enough, sitting in a booth in the corner sits Javi.

He looks...different.

He'd chopped his curls into a short, neat cut, and he looked somehow heavier behind his usually playful eyes. Long gone was the boy she knew-the one who had an affinity for loud music and taking naps wherever there was flat ground. He had been replaced by someone that certainly looked like him, but didn't have that same spark.

"Hey."

He stands and gives her a small hug, his smile not exactly reaching his eyes. She returns the gesture, settling into the booth across from him as they fall into light conversation over drinks. They catch up after the past two months, all while avoiding the topic that lingers like heavy smoke between them. Her lungs burn just thinking about what Praveen would have said if he saw them now. She finally gathers the courage to broach a relatively sore subject:

"So, what brings you back into town?"

His eyes dart down to his lap, his shoulders slouching.

"Uh, it's my last night home for a while."

She nods, understanding the need to get out of here, the ghosts of their past certainly had begun to haunt.

"Where are you headed?"

"Uh, Iraq."

Her eyes widen as she almost chokes on her drink.

"Very funny, Javi."

"Not joking."

His serious expression shows he isn't. Her heart hammers, what had she missed in two months?

"Javi, what the hell are you doing in Iraq?"

"Don't really know, I just go where they tell me to. Not my job to argue with Uncle Sam."

Her eyes widen further. No way in hell would she ever have seen that coming.

"Y-You joined the military?"

He nods, throwing back the rest of his drink.

"Didn't chop off a head of perfectly good hair for the fun of it."

For a split second, she felt disheartened, everyone was leaving, moving on, while she was here, stuck in the same small town. After another drink, and another, they fall into easy conversation. And by the time she's three drinks deep, he almost feels like the Javi she remembered.

That night is the first night she lets Javi into her bed, only to wake up naked and alone.

But it wouldn't be the last.

The second time it happened, she didn't even blame him, it had been hard on both of them. Kate hadn't bothered to come back home, and she didn't blame her, because as she looks around at the framed pictures of her now-deceased friends, she thinks she might explode.

It's Christmas Eve, nearly two years later, and she's sitting on Jeb's mother's couch as the older woman dotes on she and Javi both. Her sweater itches around her collar, and she's sweating, but she figures it has little to do with the heat of the fireplace and more to do with the lingering awkward flames between she and the military-uniform clad man beside her. Her hands grasp a cup of eggnog, but even the rum in it could not soothe the ache burning in her chest.

Javi hadn't even bothered to contact her after their night together. In fact, he'd done more to ignore her completely. Her occasional texts had gone ignored, he had read her message on his birthday, but never acknowledged it, and she was sure he hadn't even read her concerned affections she'd sent on the anniversary of the accident. She'd been so worried about him, and he couldn't have cared less about her.

She puts on a good act, because Jeb's mom doesn't deserve her coldness. The woman was kind, and loved she and Javi as her own. Days like today were hard for all three of them, but the grief combined with the anger she feels at Javi, all she wants to do is run from the warm and inviting living room she's sitting in. After a few hours of talking and gift giving, she finally meets the cold winter air and feels so relieved that tears prick behind her eyes. She takes a deep breath as she clutches the boxed gift in her hand, wiping her eyes on the back of her sleeve. Javi stands only a few feet behind her, watching everything. His voice cuts the silence that had seemed so permanent between them:

"If you want to talk about it, I'm here."

She scoffs.

"Javier, you wouldn't answer me when I told you happy birthday, much less now."

His full name tumbling from her lips stings more than it should. He lets it sting, he deserves it, he'd been an asshole.

"You're right, I-I fucked up. I know. But you're standing in front of me, and you're hurting, and I'm the only one here that knows the way your chest hurts. Kate, she-she just pushes through and ignores it. You and me, we're not built like that."

She knows Javi is right, but she would never admit that, not to his face. Silence falls over them again before she finds the courage to turn around and look at him. He's less Javi and more Lieutenant Rivera these days, his eyes hardened and his tone gruff. She can hardly see the reminiscent parts of the boy she'd spent four springs in a van with. Grief and the regular hardship of life had made them different people, but she still loved him, despite it all.

"I've got to visit Addy's mom, and Praveen's parents after this. You comin'?"

Maybe she was angry with the way Javi had treated her, but her friends' parents were expecting them both, and he had been truthful-they were the only two who understood the specific pain of losing your three closest friends in death, and the other while she was still living. Her response comes out witty, almost like the girl she used to be.

"As long as you're driving."

That night, after they'd split a bottle of red in her living room, they fall back into their usual ritual when he came to town: her writhing in pleasure underneath him. The next day, Christmas morning, the only evidence that Javi had been there was his empty wine glass on her coffee table.

She swore to herself that it would never happen again. As she washed her delicate glasses in the sink, she repeats her vow. When she finishes, she dries her hands, grabs her phone and clicks on his contact. She can't find the heart to block him, just in case he really needs her, but she changes his name in the hopes she'll ignore his calls. 'Javi <3' no longer resided in her phone, only a contact titled 'No Caller ID.'

For the next year, she does what she always does: she wakes up early for coffee, gets ready for her job as a local middle school science teacher, teaches for eight hours, and comes home to an empty house. After everything that had happened in the past few years, she'd resigned herself to being entirely alone for the rest of her life. She hadn't heard from Kate in nearly a year, and she'd intentionally not wanted to hear from Javi ever again. He'd called from time to time, only ever in the very early morning hours of a Friday or Saturday morning. She already knew what he wanted, so she ignored them.

She was isolated and alone. The most 'chasing' she did was watching a group of rowdy, self-proclaimed 'Tornado Wranglers' on YouTube. They make her smile on bad days, doing things so absurd she'd never have thought up most of them. One particular night, she finds herself watching a stream of them chasing in a town only an hour or two from her hometown. On a whim, and maybe a little cloudy from her post-dinner wine, she shoots the account a message, wondering if they'd come speak to her sixth graders who were currently studying weather. She doesn't expect anything from it, it was a long shot, and it's likely no one would answer her. But the next morning, as she scrolls through notifications from the time she'd been asleep, a response sits staring back at her on the screen.

'We'd love to come speak to some junior Wranglers! Next Thursday at 10 AM sound good?'

Her eyes widen and she beams, feeling giddy for the first time in a very long time. That Thursday morning, in an act so unbelievably unlike her, she finds herself putting on her favorite teaching dress and maybe a little more effort into her hair. She feels ridiculous the entire time she drives to her job, but when she spots the familiar red truck in the parking lot, she feels like one of her students with a crush.

The second the group comes to her classroom, everything feels a little surreal. They're exactly as they come across on screen-except for the so-called leader. Tyler Owens, in all of his backwards-baseball-cap glory, is infinitely more handsome in person. Her schoolgirl blush only grows when he's charming and easy-going with her students' dozens of questions, relevant or not, and his witty humor. She feels her heart grow when he gives each of her students their own Wranglers shirts before he approaches her with one of her own, and, attached is a sticky note that she doesn't have a chance to read before he leaves. Once her students break for recess she peels it off the fabric and smiles widely as she reads the messy handwriting:

'We're in town chasing til Sunday. Wanted to invite you for a drink, on me. Saturday? Text me, or call me, and we'll make it a date. -Tyler'

His number sits under his name and she finds herself blushing again before pulling out her phone and adding his number into her contacts before typing out a message to him:

'I'm free anytime Saturday night, and there's a great bar called The Shack not far from my place. I'll meet you there?'

From that moment on, it was rare to see one without the other. Only three dates in, Tyler had already asked her to be his girlfriend, and she had accepted. Within the year, she was back to doing what she loved most-chasing storms and helping those in need with people who loved it as much as she did. After hours upon hours of late night crying sessions and tender affections, she explained her treacherous relationship with Javi, and bit by tiny bit, her heart was healed by the goofy and sensitive boy behind the cowboy hat. Falling in love with Tyler had been easy: he was funny, and smart, and kind, and, maybe most importantly, never made her feel like she was nothing more than an after-hours option.

Now, two years into their relationship, she sleeps next to him in her pale pink sheets, his warmth radiating onto her chilled skin in the coldness of the winter night. Tyler's calloused hands are gentle under her shirt, lightly caressing her sides. Both of them are nearly asleep, it's dark, and late, nearly three in the morning. Her eyes close against his chest, and she's almost asleep when her phone rings. She assumes it's Boone-he had a habit of showing up at her house at all hours of the morning. Tyler groans, his voice cutting through the darkness:

"Jesus, what does Boone want this time?"

She rolls her eyes at her melodramatic boyfriend, rolling over to grab her phone from the nightstand as her eyes adjust to the brightness of the screen. When she gets a glance at the name flashed across her device, she stills, simply staring down at it for a minute.

No Caller ID

Every memory of the Javi she once knew flickers in her mind-the boy she once knew, the person that he was no longer. The Javi she loved had died the same day her three closest friends had. She declines the call, letting it fade back to her lockscreen as she simply stares at the picture of her and Tyler she'd set as her wallpaper.

"Baby, what's the matter?"

Tyler's voice snaps her out of her haze. She shakes her head, simply tossing on her 'do not disturb' before rolling back into his hold.

"Who was it?"

She nuzzles into his neck, finding comfort in the arms of the man who loved her-unconditionally, always, not just when she was convenient. Tyler had never left her naked and alone, he was always there when she woke up.

"Nobody, spam, no caller ID."

#javi rivera x reader #javi twisters #javi rivera #javier rivera #twisters #tyler owens twisters #tyler twisters #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens

298 notes · View notes

fabricated-misslieness · 4 months ago

Text

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tyler owens x male reader

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

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.65k

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

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

☾⋆☆⋆☽

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

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

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

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

You've been through it all.

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

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

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

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

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

You hope you'll never find out.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

"Get your ten commandments out of my soup!"

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

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

You're not sure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Huh, what, cowpoke?"

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

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

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

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

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

Thbptttttt!

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

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

"You asshole." You snarl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That's what you're trying to avoid.

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

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

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

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

He's too good for you.

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

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

☾⋆☆⋆☽

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Bean?"

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

"That's crazy."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tyler doesn't seem too far off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

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

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

"(Y/N)."

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

"(Y/N)."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No," You instinctively say.

"No," You say immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ty."

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

"You almost died." You say anyway.

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

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

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

"Sophie?"

"Sophie."

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

"No, I–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You could spend eternity like this.

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

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

One of the carrots which you added last, thanks to Tyler's distraction earlier today.

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

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

"Let's get us a bowl."

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

183 notes · View notes

kagetxiga · 22 days ago

Note

Ok I know that I requested earlier but it was so good 🥲🥲🥲😭😭😭😭!!!!! Ok sbg x phantom reader?

Reader Is a phantom but she has a human like figure for herself but I doesn't make it any better since she is still VERY creepy I mean like more scary then the phantoms like reader is so quiet that ASHLYN CAN'T EVEN HEAR HER an she a whopping 8 feet tall 😁 with A LOT of hunting skills 🥲�� like the first encounter with reader was her chasing them spider style 🥲 her smile is so long it reaches her FOREHEAD 😨

that's all 😆🦅🦅🦅🦅❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

If to tired to do do it later I don't mind waiting!

-by ohmydearesthowiluvu72

Hey darling! I was WAITING for a trope like this omg, i’ve always wondered how a Phantom!Reader would be like!! You also had requested for it to be poly so don’t worry girl, i gotchu 😉 anyways, enjoy! 🌷🧸💕

MASTERLIST

HAUNTING NIGHT

A SBG X PHANTOM!READER TROPE

Let’s just say

They had a hard time sleeping

It’s not every night you wake up in a new realm where phantom monsters chase you and your friends

But after that field trip? It’s every night.

BUT A HUMAN PHANTOM???

HOW WOULD YOU FEEL IF A SLENDERMAN LOOKING CREATURE CHASED YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WOODS?

Logan passed out in fear and they had Ben carry him the rest of the chase

“Hey…guys? What’s that?” Taylor mumbled while pointing behind them

And all they see is a person

At least that’s what they thought

The reader has long and lanky arms and legs, making them a whole 7’10 tall

Did i mention how their eye pupils are fully white?

So just imagine a tall figure in the woods, blending in with the shadows and all you see is their huge ass smile reaching their ears, showing off their beautiful pearly whites and their eyes wide open.

Yeah they weren’t gonna deal with that

So they ran!

BUT YOU CHASED. 🗣️🗣️🔥🔥

Bending backwards and doing twists and acrobatics, you chased them on all fours, making weird hissing sounds while they yelled in fear and for the sake of their lives back at the base

It doesn’t help how you can climb over the walls to their base

You’re already taller than the original phantoms, you’re too short for your head to reach the top of the walls, but when you stretch your hand up?? Yeah you can totally climb it.

Soooo it wasn’t fun when they found that out

When you climbed up the wall, they were fucking terrified, and i mean terrified

They didn’t know what to do!! This has never happened before!!

Sadly taylor was the first one you lunged after, pinning her down to the ground and was about to chop her face off (you were hungry), but Tyler immediately swung an axe at you, making a deep cut on your arm

To which it grows back!!

Ta-da!! You can regenerate!

So obviously that wasn’t much help, it just angered you even more so you went after Tyler, sparring Taylor for later

Sadly Ashlyn grabbed a flashlight and shunned it at you, unlike other phantoms, you don’t melt or bubble up like them, it just makes you weak

Super weak to the point you can barely move

So when that happened, you had practically fainted due to hunger and the light

They couldn’t kill you, because after further inspection, they realized you were human(-ish) so they took you in for interrogation, having you tied up on a chair with ropes all around your arms, wrists, ankles, thighs, basically everywhere

When they realized you were a hybrid, they were quite scared for their safety, but also concerned for you, maybe you had been forced to transform like that, maybe you were in the same shoes as them, having been in a field trip and been stuck here, or maybe you were just born like that

You finally woke up from fainting and immediately had a headache and all sorts of aches everywhere from the massive lights shunned at you when they were asking questions

Turns out, you were just part human, having been born like that in the phantom world

You were starving tho, so they somewhat fed you (they gave you a granola bar and an apple)

After that, they kept you in the chair until further notice, having you in a separate bus, and each night, they send someone to stay with you the entire time, questioning you and making sure you’re not doing something /going anywhere

Tyler, Ben and Logan didn’t like the idea of having you around, you were weird, you were different, you were apart of them

But at the same time, they couldn’t kill you, you were too humanized to the point if they even did end up killing you, they would be haunted by the thought of murdering someone

Ashlyn and Taylor were on edge, they hated being put at risk of danger, they hated the thought of you releasing from the chair and doing god knows what

They couldn’t trust you one bit, but they still took care of you, having to slowly build yours and their trust together

While you’re taken hostage, they’re the ones who usually feed you, they eventually found out that you’re a carnivore, having to be eating meat. But you still ate the granola bars and other food they gave you, but it wasn’t a good option of food.

AIDEN. OH MY GOD.

Dude this guy was driving YOU on edge

He can pop up out of no where with like idk a MACHINE GUN and it scares you.

Aiden loves to taunt you

He just loves torturing you

I think it’s cause you attacked his friends

Just be glad that you didnt attack ash…

He would always act like a bodyguard too, along with ben and tyler

Like when ash or taylor goes to feed you, theyre always looming behind

Now lets say you were acting nice, honestly you could care less that you’ve been taken hostage, you’re not fighting for your life in the wild, you’re being hand fed by pretty girls, and you’re just sitting there chilling

They eventually let you out

And but not without weapons being on them

“Okay…im gonna untie you, you better behave” Taylor said with unease in her voice

“Okay!” You cheered with a gleeful smile

But to them it was horrifying to see your smile

You slowly stood up as you stretched your limbs, but then you hit your head on the bus roof.

After a few hours, with you just wandering around exploring the place, you eventually just…

Fell asleep on the bus rooftop

They found you weird, but this is where they’re learning to fully trust you

Sure i will admit, you were used as a guard dog or a guard in general

But this is how they realize that you’re still a human and guilt was being spread like the plague

You had harmed yourself when you jumped in to protect logan from a phantom, earning a large scratch all across your chest down to your pelvis

And after getting to a safe place, they immediately treated you up (thanks ben)

But it didnt take long for it to heal (regeneration) but they still felt bad

After that, you gained logan’s respect and trust, the others…you just gained respect

HEY YOURE STILL PART PHANTOM DONT BLAME THEM

but eventually with a lot of bonding and sharing adventures together, they trusted you

It took a while, along with a rocky path, but they trusted you and thats all you needed

Thank you! ^^

-K.T

#fandom #school bus graveyard x reader #sbgxreader #sbg fandom #sbg taylor #sbg tyler #sbg ben #sbg x reader #ashlyn sbg #aiden sbg #sbg #sbg (webtoon)#logan sbg #sbg fanfic #aiden x reader #tyler x reader #x reader

63 notes · View notes

rootedinrevisions · 2 months ago

Text

Enough for You: Part 3

SUMMARY: After he showed up unexpectedly at your door trying to make amends, you and Tyler spend a cozy evening together, starting with making dinner in the kitchen as light banter fills the space. After a fun and easygoing meal, the two of you curl up on the couch to watch TV, enjoying each other's presence and sharing quiet moments. As the night winds down, you ask Tyler to stay the night, feeling comforted by his warmth and company. Tyler, happy to stay, holds you close as you both drift off into a peaceful sleep, deepening the bond that has grown between you.

WARNINGS: Fluff.

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

OTHER PARTS: PART 1 I PART 2

NOTE: There will be a PART 3! I have it mostly written and just need to finish editing it. Part 2 got away from me so I decided to break it up as to not have one crazy long fic.

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @callsign-diva I @starshinegrl I @willowpains I @beltzboys2015-blog I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891

Later you and Tyler had settled into the comfort of your couch as the world outside seems to fade away. The warmth of his presence next to you, the way his hand rests on your knee, and the steady rhythm of his breathing create a bubble of serenity around you. Time feels like it’s slowing down as you both get lost in the closeness and talk. The tension from the past week melts away as you slowly lean your head on his shoulder. You hadn’t planned to spend the past few hours on the couch with him, but it’s as though neither of you can bear to let go of the other.

It isn’t until the soft grumble of a stomach fills the silence that you both freeze, then exchange an amused look.

"Was that you or me?" Tyler teases with a chuckle, his hand giving your knee a playful squeeze.

You can’t help but laugh, realizing how long you’ve been so engrossed in each other that dinner slipped both your minds. “I guess we kind of forgot to eat,” you say, grinning up at him.

"Guess it's time to get out of this cocoon and figure out dinner, huh?" Tyler jokes, but neither of you seem quite ready to move.

Tyler glances around your apartment and then nods toward the kitchen. “How about we cook something here? I’m no chef, but I think I can handle pasta this time.”

You raise an eyebrow, the memory of his past cooking adventures making you smirk. “Are you sure you’re up for the challenge? Last time you tried to make pasta, we almost had to call the fire department”

He laughs, shaking his head. You bite back a smile, feeling a sense of ease wash over you as you both drift toward the kitchen, the earlier tension between you replaced with a playful energy. It feels natural—like slipping back into a rhythm you didn’t realize you missed. Together, you start pulling out ingredients, ready to tackle dinner as a team, side by side.

“You’re actually going to follow the recipe this time, right?” you tease, referencing that one infamous night with the team when his attempt at cooking had been… less than successful.

He rolls his eyes dramatically but grins, a mock-serious tone in his voice. “I promise, no improvising tonight. We’re sticking to the directions like my life depends on it.”

You laugh, stepping up beside him as he starts boiling the water. Together, you work on the sauce—chopping garlic, stirring in tomatoes, and adding the perfect amount of seasoning. The kitchen fills with the rich, savory aroma, and the easy banter between you feels as natural as breathing. You catch him stealing glances at you now and then, the soft kind of looks that make your heart skip a beat.

At one point, you’re standing close, both concentrating on the sauce. Tyler hands you a spoon and nods toward the pan. “Go on, taste test. Let’s see if we nailed it.”

You take a bite, humming in approval, but before you can respond, Tyler’s gaze sharpens. His lips twitch into a grin.

“You’ve got a little… right there,” he says, gesturing to your lower lip where some of the sauce must have landed.

Before you can wipe it away, Tyler steps closer, his eyes fixed on yours as his hand reaches up. His thumb brushes gently against your lip, lingering for just a second too long. There’s a charged silence, the air between you suddenly thick with tension.

Then, in one smooth motion, Tyler’s lips hover over yours. Instead of wiping the sauce away, he closes the distance and gently kisses it off, his lips brushing yours in a brief, heated moment. His mouth lingers for a beat, as if considering whether to deepen the kiss, but he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes.

You feel your heart race as his thumb traces a light line across your lip, and you both let out soft laughs to ease the tension, though neither of you moves far away from each other.

“Well, I’d say that’s pretty good,” Tyler says, his voice low, and the double meaning doesn’t escape you.

After a second, you step back, breaking the tension with a smile. “Let’s see if the rest of the meal lives up to that standard.”

You sit down together at your small dining table, a cozy space that feels perfect for the two of you. The pasta is simple, but delicious, and you both dig in, the conversation flowing effortlessly.

Tyler leans back, twirling his fork in the pasta. “So, be honest… was the sauce better than last time?” he asks with a grin, clearly referring to his past kitchen disasters.

You smirk and tilt your head. “It was way better. This time, I didn’t feel like I was risking my life.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I’m never living that down, am I?”

“Nope,” you say with a grin, taking another bite. The warmth between you isn’t just from the food—it’s from the way you feel sitting across from him, sharing something simple, yet meaningful.

The conversation meanders from lighthearted memories of the team to more personal things. Tyler shares a little about his week, and you talk about yours. Every now and then, he’ll throw in a joke that makes you laugh, and each time, his smile grows wider, like your laughter is exactly what he needed to hear.

At some point, the meal slows down, and the pauses between words become longer. But the silences aren’t awkward—they’re comfortable, filled with the sound of utensils against plates and the occasional soft smile exchanged between you both.

Tyler leans back in his chair, watching you for a moment before speaking.

“This feels good,” he says quietly, almost to himself. His eyes linger on yours, and you know he’s talking about more than just the dinner.

You nod, your heart swelling with a quiet happiness. “Yeah,” you agree softly. “It does.”

With dinner finished and the dishes stacked in the sink, the atmosphere between you and Tyler has settled into something soft and warm, like an easy current pulling you both along. The quiet hum of the street outside your apartment window is a gentle backdrop as you both make your way to the couch, the leftovers tucked away and the weight of the evening hanging in the air like a comfortable blanket.

You grab a couple of throw pillows and settle into your usual corner of the couch, feeling the softness beneath you as Tyler sits next to you, his arm casually resting along the back. His presence feels different tonight—not distant, not guarded—just close. Like the space between you both has finally disappeared, leaving only a warmth that feels entirely new but somehow familiar.

“You know,” Tyler says, leaning back, “this is probably the most relaxed I’ve felt in a while.” He tilts his head toward you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Though that might be the carbs talking.”

You laugh, the sound light and effortless. “I guess a successful meal can do that.”

His eyes twinkle. “I told you I’d follow the recipe this time.”

There’s a pause, the kind where neither of you feels the need to fill it. The quiet hum of your living room lamp and the distant sounds of life beyond your apartment windows make the world feel small, like it's just the two of you in this cozy bubble. You pull your legs up underneath you, feeling the comfort of the moment settle in.

Tyler glances over at the TV remote sitting on the coffee table. “Movie?” he suggests, though there’s an undertone in his voice that says he’s just as content to keep talking, to keep soaking in this rare and quiet space you’ve found together.

“Yeah,” you nod, reaching for the remote. “Something light.”

As you scroll through your options, you feel Tyler shift closer to you, his knee gently brushing against yours. It’s subtle but enough to send a pleasant warmth coursing through you. You glance over and catch him looking at you, his expression soft, almost thoughtful, as though he’s savoring every second of this moment.

“You pick,” he says softly. “I’ll watch whatever you want.”

You smirk and raise an eyebrow. “Even if it’s a rom-com?”

He chuckles, leaning back. “Even if it’s a rom-com. I’m trying to earn brownie points here.”

You laugh, and before long, you settle on a movie—a lighthearted one neither of you has seen before. But as it begins to play, you find that you’re more aware of Tyler’s presence next to you than anything happening on the screen.

His arm eventually slides down from the back of the couch, wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you gently into his side. The contact is natural, easy, like he’s done it a thousand times before. And maybe, in some alternate version of your life, he has.

For a while, neither of you speaks. You just sit there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the glow of the TV casting soft shadows around the room. At some point, your head naturally leans into his shoulder, and his fingers trace light, absentminded circles on your arm. You feel his steady breathing, his heart beating in rhythm with yours.

Tyler’s voice breaks the quiet after a while, soft and almost hesitant. You tilt your head slightly to look up at him. “I’m really glad I came tonight.”

His words are simple, but the weight of them lingers. You feel a swell of warmth in your chest, and you nod, a smile spreading across your face.

“Me too.”

He holds your gaze for a moment longer before pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. It’s tender, full of unspoken promises that neither of you are rushing to put into words just yet.

The movie drones on in the background, but for the rest of the night, the only thing that matters is the quiet, cozy space the two of you have built together—one that feels like it’s always been waiting for this moment.

As the credits roll on the movie, the soft hum of the television is the only sound in the room. You glance over at Tyler, who’s been quiet for the last few minutes, his arm still wrapped comfortably around you. The warmth of his body feels like an anchor, keeping you grounded in this perfect, simple moment.

Tyler shifts slightly, and with a gentle touch, he reaches up and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger there for a moment longer than necessary, his eyes searching yours. “You okay?” he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he’s afraid to disturb the peace you’ve found together.

You smile, a soft, genuine smile, and nod. “Yeah,” you whisper back, the word carrying more meaning than its simplicity suggests. Everything feels right in this moment—more right than anything has in a long time.

Tyler’s eyes flicker with something deeper as he leans in, brushing his lips gently against yours. The kiss is slow, tender, as if he’s savoring it, committing every second to memory. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and he asks again, quieter this time, “You sure?”

You look up into his eyes, feeling a rush of emotion well up inside you. You could pretend to be calm, but the truth is, this moment feels like a turning point, like everything you’ve been waiting for is finally within reach. “I don’t want you to leave,” you confess, your voice soft but filled with vulnerability. The words hang in the air, delicate and full of meaning.

Tyler pauses for a beat, his thumb brushing gently along your cheek. His gaze holds yours, as though he’s searching for any hint of uncertainty. “I can stay,” he says, his voice low and careful, “if you want me to.”

You feel your chest tighten at the tenderness in his words, and you nod, your heart racing. “I want you to stay,” you murmur, the vulnerability in your voice now mirrored by the warmth in his eyes.

You smile, and without saying anything more, you take his hand, leading him down the short hallway to your bedroom. Once inside, the atmosphere shifts slightly—more intimate, more real. You reach for a pair of soft pajamas while Tyler tugs off his shirt, the sound of fabric falling to the floor barely registering as you change. When you turn around, you find him standing there, stripped down to his boxers, watching you with that same look in his eyes—like he’s seeing you for the first time.

You both climb into bed, the sheets cool and inviting. Tyler lies back, his arm automatically reaching out for you, an open invitation. Without hesitation, you curl up into his side, your head resting on his chest as his arm wraps around you, holding you close. His heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, a calming rhythm that makes you feel completely safe.

For a few moments, the two of you just lie there, the silence between you filled with the kind of comfort that doesn’t need words. But eventually, Tyler’s fingers start tracing lazy patterns on your back, and his voice breaks the quiet.

“This feels good,” he says softly, his breath warm against the top of your head.

You nod, your eyes half-closed, the weight of the day finally catching up with you. “It does,” you agree, your voice thick with sleep.

There’s a brief pause before Tyler speaks again, quieter this time. “I’ve missed you.” His fingers continue their gentle path along your back, his voice carrying the weight of everything unspoken between you.

You tilt your head slightly, just enough to look up at him. His expression is soft, and in the dim light of the room, you can see the tenderness in his eyes. “I’ve missed you too,” you admit, the words coming out in a sleepy murmur as you feel yourself beginning to drift off.

Tyler’s hand stills on your back, and you feel him press a gentle kiss to the top of your head, the warmth of his lips lingering against your skin. “Get some sleep,” he whispers, his voice barely audible now. “I’ll be right here.”

And with that, you let the last of your worries fade away. You’re safe, comfortable, wrapped up in Tyler’s arms. The world outside can wait—right now, all that matters is this moment, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you, and the warmth of his body next to yours.

Tyler stays awake for a few minutes longer, watching as your breathing evens out and your body relaxes against his. A small smile tugs at his lips as he presses another kiss to your forehead, his heart full. “Sweet dreams, beautiful,” he whispers, though he knows you’ve already fallen asleep. He closes his eyes then, pulling you even closer as he finally allows himself to drift off too, knowing that when morning comes, you’ll still be right there, next to him.

#Tyler Owens #Tyler Owens Fic #Tyler Owens Fanfic #Tyler Owens Fanfiction #Tyler Owens Angst

126 notes · View notes

bajillionblunts · 10 months ago

Audio

Tyler, The Creator - Burger (Chopped By Dj Sleep)

#tyler the creator #burger #chopped #dj sleep

3 notes · View notes

jacksprostate · 10 months ago

Text

For a moment, my world is a single concussive blast, shattering my skull and sending my soul straight to hell. Direct flight. Short enough, there's no single serving refreshments to match the minty white hot incineration of my mouth.

When I open my eyes, cavern the size of Kansas blown through my last good cheek, the afterimage light of the bullet inflicted on the world — it's with the distinct sense that I fucked up.

I had told Marla, I wasn't killing myself. I was killing Tyler. But doesn't anyone with a gun in their mouth want to die?

I try speaking, and it works about as well as one would expect. I wave them away. Even Marla. Strangely enough, they listen. Or maybe they go to find a paramedic. No one ever told them to staunch the massive source of blood flow first. That's alright.

This is time to think. Solo reflection before group therapy.

I am alone, and Tyler is nowhere in sight.

Maybe it really was a murder suicide. Both victims, Tyler Durden. Cause of death, his stupid, stupid creator stopped wanting him. I realize this puts me in the stance of God, and I shudder. Tyler is not one of millions axeing themselves because daddy dearest and holy didn't love them enough.

And yet, I'm standing in his paraffin iconography. His pointless tomb.

Tyler says, "That's not quite nice, you know."

Tyler.

Cortisol receptors, burnt, back on fire.

Houston, we have a problem.

Tyler.

Tyler says, "Did you really think that would work? Tied it up in your head with a little bow, metaphorical gravestone marked with my name?"

Tyler says, "Didn't think you had it in you, psycho boy."

I stumble. I fall onto the ground and my head should ricochet and get scrambled like hens who've just met the fox. I fall on the ground, and my head falls into Tyler's lap. He looms over me, eyes crinkled like when he kissed me and introduced me to lye.

Tyler.

He cards his fingers through my hair. Supports my head with his palm. Turns it this way and that, tsking, humming.

Tyler says, "You did quite the number on yourself, psycho boy."

It feels like he could crack my skull open, pour out the contents like it's egg drop soup. There is sweetness to how he handles me.

"I told you," he says. "We won't really die."

Did Tyler move the tip of the gun? Did Tyler save my life?

"No. You fucked up killing yourself all on your own," Tyler says.

I wasn't trying to kill myself. I wanted to kill Tyler.

"Same thing," Tyler says, and my eyes water.

He lets his fingers slip close to the mangled chops of my cheeks. It is something that should probably hurt, but when he sticks his fingers in my face, I feel nothing. I can't tell if it's because it's not real and I don't have the energy for Tyler to use my hands, or if it's because my pain has become the ultimate white ball of healing light.

Two of his fingers slip into the gash of my old scar. It's been open since I learned about Patrick Madden. He fingers my mouth, traces the bitten chunk of my tongue. Tyler chides me. How could I ever expect fight club to release me from myself, now? It loves us too much.

"Not just Tyler Durden," he says.

Tyler says, "You might be my shadow, but they love you, too. They see you."

Be still my beating heart.

Why paraffin, Tyler?

Why not blow up the building. Doesn't this mean anything?

I thought it was my secret will to live. Tyler had come to me, perfectly handsome and an angel in his everything-blond way. My will to live tried to commit suicide, sure, but maybe he didn't. Did Tyler add the paraffin, just like how he tipped the gun?

"I told you," Tyler says. "I didn't tip the gun."

I didn't though. I wanted to die.

Why paraffin?

Tyler says, "Look at what you are now. What you've come to accept. In the best operas, the best stories, you don't really die. You learn a lesson. You up the stakes."

He pulls at my newest wound, stretching the skin tight. It gushes blood direct into my throat. Tyler opens me like a chip bag, and now I have no corners to my mouth but the ones all the way back at my ears. I've got four nice chops, ready to be pared.

Dragon of avarice.

Rough cut of beef. Pork. Good enough for stew, maybe.

I can hear the police helicopters, closer, closer. The impending doom of my discovered resurrection.

Tyler says, "You've been here since the start. I wouldn't be here in the first place if you didn't want me."

Trying to kill myself would never kill Tyler. I love him too much. It's the experience of being me I want to let go of. I stopped wanting to wake up.

That means I'm the hallucination.

Tyler says, "Think of it as metamorphosis."

Tyler is a sculptor. Carver. He is slicing the unneeded and unwanted parts of me away. This is just the largest cut of his knife. I think of little soap bears made by Boy Scouts. I am his self portrait.

Tyler says, "This is only the first step."

The helicopters land. There's stitches on every single officer.

#fight club #my writing #inspired by lalikeslichto's lovely art of all the holes in his face!!!#and sort of the ask and response i did from earlier

149 notes · View notes

sleepinthrumyalarms · 2 years ago

Text

— the perfect girl

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader

warnings: none

summary: wednesday hated warming up to anyone, but she would lie if she said the demon girl with soft grins and calloused hands wasn't slowly occupying a special corner in her heart

word count: 3.3k

read pt. 1 here

“You know, I’m still kinda pissed about the dance.”

Wednesday turned in her seat to look at the demon who was busy glaring a hole through the ceiling, hands under her head as she laid on the bed.

“Why would you be?”

“You know why,” (Y/n) worried her lip between her teeth, brows furrowed at the thought that she herself had brought up and didn’t seem to enjoy in the slightest, “It should’ve been me.”

The ravenette stared at the other girl, unblinking, before turning back to her typewriter, “You should’ve asked me yourself, then.”

“It’s never that easy with you. You’re so hard to read sometimes,” the oni girl turned on her side, watching Wednesday type with concentration, “Would’ve you said yes?”

The typing stopped, and Wednesday was silent for a moment, before she continued.

“Yes, I would’ve.”

(Y/n) fist pumped the air with a whisper-yell of a ‘yes!’ before turning to lay on her back again, grinning like a pleased cat. Wednesday sighed, shaking her head, “You’re so childish. The reason I went with Tyler was completely out of my control.”

“Fuck Tyler,” (Y/n) barked with no hesitation, “Well, at least we still got the prom,” she thought for a bit and then asked, “Will you go to prom with me?”

“If you’re not dead or expelled by that time, then yes, I will, (Y/n).” Wednesday replied distractedly, getting a bit annoyed with the conversation, “Now, please, let me focus.”

The demon girl sighed dreamily, closing her eyes, “I’m going to prom with Wednesday Addams.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes, but couldn't resist a small smile that made its way to her face.

"I want to cuddle with you."

Silence hung heavy in the air for a few moments, and (Y/n) looked up from the book she was reading, brows furrowed in complete disbelief as she stared at Wednesday, who was sitting at her desk like the girl had grown a second head on her shoulders.

"... What?"

"Do you have a hearing problem? I said," the ravenette closed her eyes with a deep inhale, and then looked at (Y/n) again, now obviously annoyed, "I. Want. To cuddle with you."

The demon closed her book and put it on the nightstand, her attention now fully on the other girl, still not believing the statement, “You want to cuddle?” she chuckled, “Is the world ending tomorrow?”

"Choke." Wednesday deadpanned before turning back to the laptop she was scrolling through.

“No, wait,” (Y/n) shot up from the bed to scooch closer to the chair the now frowning girl was resting on, “I’m sorry, snookums. That was insensitive of me,” the demon gave Wednesday the biggest puppy eyes she could manage, and paired with the tusks sticking out of her mouth, she did resemble one, though too big and a bit too menacing to be a puppy, “I would love nothing more than to cuddle with you. Please?”

Wednesday rolled her eyes with a sigh, as if she wasn’t the one asking in the first place, before giving in with fake reluctance, but (Y/n) had long since learned to see right through that bluff. The gloomy girl rose up from the chair, and the demon gently grabbed her hand, slowly, to give Wednesday a chance to pull away if she so desired, and moved the ravenette to stand between her legs, “Do you want me to hold you, or...?”

Without saying a word, Wednesday pushed the oni on the bed before joining her, tangling their legs together and resting her head on the demon’s chest. Wednesday’s body was clad in a hoodie that almost swallowed her whole and that was, undoubtedly, (Y/n)’s, judging by the oversized way it fit on her shoulders. It was the demon’s favorite, too – well, used to be, now that it seemed to belong to the smaller girl who refused to give it back, threatening to chop off the arms of anyone who touched it.

It wasn’t like (Y/n) minded, anyways.

The ravenette's arms wound themselves around the demon's middle, squeezing lightly, and (Y/n) could feel her heart swell.

“Aww, ‘Day,” she cooed lovingly, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend, palms resting on her waist, “You’re like a grumpy little black cat."

“Don’t speak.” The shorter girl grumbled against the oni’s sweatshirt.

“Again?” Wednesday asked, opening her dorm door in front of the demon girl, half – naked and covered in blood from head to toe.

(Y/n) stepped inside, bare feet leaving red prints on the floor, “I ate a deer!” She grinned proudly, eyes still gleaming with her hunting glee, and turned to the other side of the room to wave at the second inhabitant of the dorm, “Hey, Enid.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” the blonde mumbled, her hand over her mouth as she buried her face in her pillow.

“You’re killing her, (Y/n),” Wednesday sighed, rummaging through her wardrobe to find some clean clothes, “And you reek of blood. As much as I like that, you need to shower.”

“I don’t wanna.” The demon whined tiredly, stepping closer to Wednesday to drape herself over the girl who moved away, quickly avoiding the other’s bloodied claws and limbs.

“No touching until you’re clean. Come on.”

Despite her reproachful tone, she grabbed the sulking oni by the hand, holding a clean towel and a black oversized hoodie in the other, and led (Y/n) out of the room and to the bathrooms of Ophelia Hall.

The demon girl had made it a habit to come to the ravenette after Blood Moons in the early hours of morning. While she did act cool and collected, she loathed being alone during those nights. She was glad Wednesday didn’t kick her out the first time she had showed up at the girl’s doorstep, bloodied and tired. (Y/n) didn’t like being vulnerable in front of other people, but with Wednesday it was different. She didn't make her feel weak.

When they entered the showers, Wednesday turned on the lights, dropped the clothes on the sink, and looked up at the other girl, her gaze stern.

“Make sure you get all of the dirt off your hair. I hope you won’t need any help with that, at least.”

(Y/n) smirked, leaning her elbow against the door frame, her haori sliding off her shoulder seductively.

“Hmm, I don’t know… There are some places I probably won’t be able to reach myself…”

Wednesday threw the towel at the taller girl's face and, with a quick jab at the oni’s arm, left the room, her cheeks gaining a barely noticeable color.

When Wednesday raised her hand to knock at (Y/n)’s door, her fist froze mid - air. A huge claw mark was adorning the wood, the scratch seemingly almost powerful enough to tear the door off its hinges, and the ravenette realised it was unlocked.

Grabbing the handle to slowly let herself in, the girl stepped inside quietly, dread pooling at her stomach as a myriad of different anxious thoughts ran through her mind.

“…(Y/n)?”

It was pure chaos inside. It was dark, but the light of the lamps on the street coming from the window was enough to let Wednesday see the mess that (Y/n)’s dorm room was – there were claw marks everywhere, on the walls, on the table, and her chair laid on the floor, broken into pieces. Papers and books were scattered around along with some ceramic shards of what most likely used to be a cup. In the middle of the room, plunged between two floorboards, was the oni's katana. Its scabbard was thrown off to the side, but, thankfully, the blade was unharmed.

The (h/c) – haired girl was sitting at the foot of her bed, face buried in her knees drawn to her chest. She didn’t move an inch when Wednesday called her name, only growling quietly in response.

“Leave.”

Carefully maneuvering around the wooden and glass fragments, Wednesday made her way to the miserable form of the demon, and the oni hissed at her again, raising her head a bit to glare at the unwanted guest, slitted eyes glowing in the dark frighteningly, “I said fucking leave.”

“Don’t you snap at me,” Wednesday scolded softly, unfazed by her attitude, and crouched next to (Y/n), “What happened?”

The girl didn’t answer. She hugged her legs closer to her chest instead, clawed hands gripping her arms painfully.

The ravenette sat down and moved closer, leaning on her palms, and her hand touched something smooth and solid. Feeling around the floor in the darkness, she grabbed the item and raised it to her eyes – it was (Y/n)’s dragon pendant, lace torn in half.

Wednesday carefully reached for the nightstand to leave the golden charm there before moving even closer to the demon, making her flinch like a scared animal when their legs touched. She didn’t speak again. She leaned her head on the oni’s shoulder, cold fingers gently grazing her hand that was still gripping the sleeve of her shirt, and the ravenette’s heart squeezed at the shaky sigh the taller girl let out at the sensation.

Wednesday was seldom ever patient. But she’d stay like this for days, if needed. Only for (Y/n).

Wednesday stared at the clock with exasperation, counting the seconds. The class had ended a few minutes ago, and (Y/n) was supposed to pick her up for lunch. Where was she?

The ravenette prayed to all the gods almighty that the demon would hurry and show up any second, because the predicament she currently found herself in was going to make her snap a neck.

Xavier's neck, to be precise.

As if sitting next to him the whole period wasn't enough, the brunet decided to bother her during the break. He was going on about something Wednesday wasn't even listening to at this point, and the ravenette wished looks could kill so that the young man would drop dead at her feet and quit his pathetic attempts at socializing with her.

"Anyway, are you going somewhere this break? Want to grab lunch together, maybe?" Xavier asked with a grin.

"I'm already going with someone, actually." The ravenette informed without even trying to be subtle with her annoyance.

"Oh, you're on demand, aren't you? Will you ever fit me into that busy schedule of yours? Who are you going with?"

"That's really none of your business, Xavier." She could almost feel a vein throb at her forehead angrily, and Wednesday swore that a second longer and she wouldn't be responsible for-

"Excuse me," Wednesday heard a familiar voice by her side suddenly, and felt a warm hand land on her waist, "Hope I'm not interrupting anything important."

The ravenette looked up to see (Y/n), the demon’s gaze already fixed on her adoringly, mouth stretched in a toothy grin.

"Sorry I took so long, little raven. Weems and I had a talk," she looked at Xavier, her smile instantly becoming tight-lipped, "I'm not too late, am I?"

"You did interrupt something here, (Y/n). We were just having a normal conversation. Not sure if you've ever heard of those in whatever hellish cave you came from." The artist grumbled, obviously not happy to see the demon girl.

The hold the oni had on Wednesday's side tightened and she grit her teeth, lip rising to bare her tusks intimidatingly, "Better watch your mouth before I rip your jaw off."

The young man made a face of disgust at the threat, furrowing his eyebrows, “You should keep that thing on a leash, Addams.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve tried. She tears them," Wednesday said, stepping into Xavier's personal space with a glare, "Call (Y/n) a thing one more time, and I might just let her have your remains when I'm done with you."

The ravenette grabbed the taller girl by the hand to turn around and lead her away and out of the classroom without another word, and the demon had hearts in her eyes as she stared at the back of Wednesday’s head, smiling like a lovesick fool.

I’m gonna marry her.

It was late in the morning as (Y/n) stood in the quad among her fellow students, worrying her lip between her blunt tusks in a nervous habit. It was the day she had been dreading for the past week –Parents’ Weekend at the Nevermore Academy.

The demon’s appearance was at its best: she had her hair done perfectly, suit jacket and pants freshly ironed, and even her shirt was buttoned up fully, which itself was an unlikely fashion for the oni girl. She had brushed her teeth extra hard and she smelled of good expensive cologne she insisted on drenching herself in before heading out.

Why was the oni feeling so on edge? It wasn’t a test she had to pass in order to keep dating her grumpy dark – haired girlfriend, as she knew Wednesday couldn’t care less about what anyone else thought of their relationship, nevertheless, the urge to impress her parents was kind of there anyway.

A bead of sweat rolled down (Y/n)’s forehead as she raised her hand to fumble with her tie that now seemed to be choking her, fixing her collar for the nth time to make herself look as pristine as possible.

“Stop fidgeting, (Y/n). You look good.”

Wednesday was standing next to the demon girl, completely unbothered, gaze emotionless as she watched (Y/n) writhe in her nervousness.

“I can’t,” the oni grunted in reply, “This damn thing is killing me.”

Wednesday sighed and got on her tip - toes, smacking (Y/n)’s hands away to fix the tie properly, slender fingers sliding under the cloth to tighten it slightly. When she was done, she moved away to take a look, and nodded to herself.

“There. Now quit overthinking. It’ll be fine.” The ravenette pecked the taller girl’s cheek gently to ease her nerves, and went to stand next to her again, “They’ll have to live with my choice, whether they want it or not.”

“Yeah, but… there’s something in having your parents like me on their own terms, don’t you think?”

More and more people were starting to gather in the yard, occupying the seats in front of the microphone where the principal was supposed to address the event. (Y/n) looked into the crowd, her slitted eyes gliding over the faces of the parents before she sighed, “Father’s still not here,” she mumbled, “I hope he doesn’t miss Weems’s speech again. Sometimes I think he does it on purpose every time.”

“Honestly, I can relate.” Wednesday deadpanned, and (Y/n) smiled weakly.

The girls watched the tall blonde woman walk up to stand in front of the crowd, but the oni couldn’t focus on the words she was speaking. Anxiety was clawing at her stomach with every passing second, and her bottom lip started to bleed from the intense nagging of her canines.

“So let’s focus on the positive, and make this Parents’ Weekend our very best yet.” Principal Weems finished with a smile, and the crowd burst into happy applause. Wednesday’s eyes flicked to the side, and she grabbed (Y/n) under her arm, “Come on, the sooner we finish this, the better.”

The demon nodded quickly, taking a deep breath and bracing herself for the worst. God, this was more nerve – wrecking than any exam in the academy.

“Look at this. Some things never change.”

A tall woman in a tight black dress walked into the quad, her gait like that of an elegant ghost as she looked around the yard with a hint of melancholic nostalgia in her eyes. Her hair was dark and long, and it contrasted with her pale complexion in an eerily - beautiful way. She was holding onto a shorter man dressed in a dark striped suit, and his hair and mustache were styled with diligence, and paired with his manners he seemed like a true gentleman.

When the family noticed their child walking over, they smiled, and her father stepped closer with a pleasant grin.

“There she is,” he spoke, adoration and a thick accent lacing his voice, “Oh, how we missed those accusing eyes and youthful sneer!”

Wednesday let go of (Y/n)’s arm to step into her father’s embrace, stiff as a board. Then the man's gaze flicked to the demon, "Have you brought a friend, dear?"

The short girl hesitated for a moment, as if embarrassed, and then spoke up, “This is (Y/n). She is my… paramour.” There was a small dust of color on her pale cheeks.

The man seemed taken aback for a moment, before he smiled again, obviously pleased with the news.

“Oh, how wonderful! I’m so glad to know someone has slithered their way into my little deathtrap’s dark heart,” he held his hand out, “My name is Gomez Addams.”

Taking the man’s palm into hers, (Y/n) shook it and smiled back at him politely, “I’m (Y/n) (L/n). It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Addams.”

The older Addams stepped away and back to his wife, and the woman looked the oni up and down before smirking, a small mischievous spark in her half – lidded eyes, “We’ve been dying to meet you, (Y/n). My dear daughter has painted quite a picture. I’m Morticia. I suppose I have you to thank for Wednesday’s slightly better than grim mood she’s been in for the past few weeks. It’s a worthy achievement, I’d say.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Addams. It’s a pleasure.”

“So,” the woman turned to Wednesday, “Tell us everything.”

“Since you’ve abandoned me, I’ve been hunted, haunted, and the target of an attempted murder. And then she got stuck with me.” Wednesday deadpanned, and Gomez sighed dreamily, grabbing at his heart dramatically.

“Oh, Nevermore, I love you so!”

(Y/n) smiled warmly at the way a small ghost of an upturn touched Wednesday’s lips when she spoke to her father. It seemed that, behind the mask of disdain she held when she spoke of her parents, she still loved them dearly.

"My little storm cloud has mentioned you're good with a blade. Do you fence, (Y/n)?"

The demon girl was sitting next to Gomez at the table, leaving Wednesday to have her mother – daughter talk as she conversed with the short man.

"Uh, not exactly. I'm a swordswoman by my father's legacy." (Y/n) replied.

"Oh, so you must be a worthy opponent, hm? I hope we do get a chance to duel this weekend. To the death, of course." Gomez laughed, baring his gapped teeth in a friendly smile.

"I'd love to, Mr. Addams,” the oni smiled back, “Wednesday has been a fencing champion here at Nevermore since the day she arrived,” (Y/n) said proudly, tactfully choosing not to mention the Bianca incident, “She stings so fast and sharp, like a deadly black widow. You’re a wonderful teacher, Mr. Addams.”

“You flatter me, (Y/n),” the older Addams brushed the compliment off with a teasing smile, “But thank you. I’d say it’s mostly mia piccolo corvo’s merit. Her talent is unremarkable.”

Morticia and Wednesday watched the pair from where they were striding through the yard, and the woman smiled at the scene, “I never would have guessed you had a thing for demonic creatures, my lovely storm cloud. You inherited my good taste, I suppose.”

“I’m not as shallow as to choose the people I keep close based on their appearance, mother,” Wednesday said, watching her father hit (Y/n)’s back as he laughed at something she had said, “(Y/n) is much more than what she looks like.”

Morticia hummed, “She makes you happy. That’s what’s important to me.”

The smaller ravenette raised her eyebrows and looked up at her mother incredulously, not expecting such a response.

“But I have to say, her looks are certainly fit for a perfect Addams family member.”

Wednesday’s cheeks reddened at the statement, and she looked away, gaze landing back at the oni, a small smile on her lips, “Don’t be delusional.”

#wednesday #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday x reader #wednesday 2022 #netflix wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday x you #wednesday imagine #wednesday the series #wednesday addams x y/n #imagine #female reader #wednesday x fem!reader #wednesday x female reader

2K notes · View notes