#daisy jones fanfiction

[auroralwriting]

mess it up

billy dunne x reader

gracie abrams songfic challenge

billy dunne messes it up with you. can he fix his mess?

no warnings for this story

There were two types of mistakes in Billy Dunne’s life. The ones you make because you’re young and stupid, and the ones you make even though you know better. You? You were the second kind.

You had been in his life long before the band ever made it big. Pittsburgh. Cold winters. You and Billy, wrapped up in blankets that didn’t quite cover your toes. Sharing coffee cups. Writing lyrics on napkins. You were his muse before he even knew what that word meant.

And he loved you. He loved you like oxygen. Like you were the one thing that kept him alive. Everyone could see it. Everyone knew. But when the music started calling louder, and the band took off, when the spotlight hit him square in the chest, Billy changed. Not all at once. Not in ways that were easy to point out at first. But slowly, like a crack spreading through glass.

It started with late nights at the studio. Missed calls. Conversations that stayed unfinished. You tried to understand. God, you tried. But understanding only got you so far when the man you loved started disappearing one decision at a time.

And then he messed it up.

He never cheated. At least, not with his body. But Billy cheated with his silence. With the way he stopped telling you things. With how he let your love fade into the background of whatever version of himself he thought the world wanted more.

He cheated when he started writing with Daisy more than he thought about you.

You walked out after the third time he showed up hours late to dinner, smelling like smoke and stale beer, saying he forgot. Not because of the dinner, but because he looked at you like you were just another thing on his list.

You didn’t scream. You didn’t cry—not until you were gone. Billy didn’t chase you.

That was the part that gutted you the most. He let you go. Just stood there, hands in his pockets, eyes hollow. Like he’d already made peace with losing you. But peace never came. Not for either of you.

It had been almost a year since that night. The band was bigger than ever. Sold-out shows. Magazine covers. Billy Dunne, frontman of the decade. And yet, every stage he stepped on felt wrong. Every hotel bed felt empty. His songs rang out to thousands, but none of them sounded right anymore. They all sounded like apologies.

The worst part? He couldn’t even blame you for leaving. He would’ve done the same if he were in your shoes.

It was Graham who reached out first. A casual question while he was watching television. “Saw someone today who reminded me of her. You ever think about calling?”

Billy didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The ache in his chest answered for him. That night, he didn’t go to the studio. Didn’t meet the guys at the bar. He stayed in, sat on the edge of his bed, and stared at the contact he’d never deleted from his phone.

You.

He hadn’t called. Not yet. But you had. Out of the blue. Like the universe had cracked open and given him one more shot.

Your voice on the other end of the line sounded tentative. Like maybe you regretted dialing. Like maybe you thought he wouldn’t answer. But he did. On the first ring.

There was a long pause, too long, really. The kind where both of you were thinking too much, wondering what the hell you were doing.

“Hey,” you said, finally. Barely above a whisper.

Billy let out a breath like he’d been holding it in for months. “Hey.”

Silence.

“I didn’t think you’d pick up,” you admitted.

“I didn’t think you’d call.”

And that was it—that one line cracked the thin ice the two of you had been trying to delicately balance on.

“Why didn’t you?” you asked. “Call me, I mean.”

Billy’s voice stiffened, defensive without meaning to be. “I figured if you wanted to talk, you’d have picked up the phone sooner.”

“Oh, right,” you said, something sharp threading into your tone. “Because it was so easy to just pretend none of it happened. That you didn’t tear everything we built apart.”

Billy scoffed. “You think I wanted to lose you?”

“You didn’t fight for me,” you snapped. “I left, and you let me. You didn’t even chase after me, Billy. Not a word. Not a single call.”

“I thought you were done!” he yelled, and it startled you both into silence. His voice cracked. “I thought I’d already ruined everything.”

“You did.”

The words hung in the air. Icy. True. You could hear him breathing on the other end. Labored. Like he wanted to scream or cry or punch something—or all three.

“I know I messed it up,” he finally said, voice low and shaking. “I know that. I’ve had to live with that every goddamn day.”

You closed your eyes, letting your forehead fall into your palm. “Then why did it feel like I meant nothing to you at the end?”

“You meant everything to me,” he whispered, and your heart squeezed at the sheer agony in his voice. “You still do. That’s the fucking problem. You still do.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t.

Billy sighed so hard it sounded like it came from the deepest part of him. “I shouldn’t have let you go. I know that. And I—I can’t stop wishing I’d run after you. I should’ve grabbed you, begged you to stay, done something. But I didn’t. I froze. And I hate myself for it.”

You sat with that. “I didn’t call you tonight to fight,” you said, voice finally softening. “I don’t know why I called. I just… I was thinking about you.”

“I think about you every day,” Billy said. “Every night. Every time I pick up my guitar. It’s always you.”

You wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your sweatshirt, the silence between you turning heavy and warm. “I’m in L.A. for a few days,” you offered. “Just… here for work.”

Another pause.

“Can I see you?” he asked, timid like he didn’t think he deserved to ask.

You hesitated. You wanted to say no. You wanted to protect your heart. But your heart didn’t care about protection, it only knew how to beat for him.

“..Yeah,” you said. “You can.”

You agreed to meet at a coffee shop on Melrose. Neutral territory. Public, but not loud. A place where people came to work and daydream, a place where heartbreak could sit across from hope with oat milk lattes between them.

You got there first. Of course you did. You were early, painfully early, and regretting it with every tick of the clock. You sat by the window with your hands curled around a ceramic mug, the warmth doing very little to settle the nerves buzzing beneath your skin. You’d stared at your reflection in the glass so long you stopped recognizing your own face.

Would he recognize you? Would you recognize him?

The bell above the door jingled.

You didn’t look up right away. You didn’t have to. You knew it was him by the way your entire body went still, like your heart was holding its breath.

“Hey.” His voice was quieter in person. Like it had lost its armor on the way in.

You raised your eyes, and there he was, Billy Dunne in a worn denim jacket, curls a little longer than you remembered, jaw sharp, eyes soft. There were shadows beneath them, like maybe he hadn’t slept in days. Or years. Like maybe he was still haunted by things he never said.

You stood up before you could talk yourself out of it. “Hi,” you said, and suddenly it felt like you were seventeen again, waiting in the back of his old truck while he tried to fix the heater.

He smiled, but it was tentative. Careful.

“Is it okay if I—” He gestured to the seat across from you.

You nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

He looked at you then. Really looked. And for a second, neither of you were in a coffee shop in a city that had torn you both in different directions. You were kids again, in his basement with a record spinning and no future except each other. “You look good,” he said, like it hurt.

“So do you,” you replied, even though it wasn’t entirely true. He looked tired. He looked like he’d been carrying your ghost around like luggage.

“I didn’t know if you’d show,” he admitted, fingers tapping against the table. “After that call, I thought maybe I pushed too hard.”

“I almost didn’t,” you whispered. “But I wanted to.”

That seemed to land somewhere deep inside him. He swallowed. “I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, and the words spilled out fast. “For everything. For not calling. For not showing up. For not being enough back then—”

“Billy—”

“No, let me say it,” he rushed out. “I was scared. I was chasing this dream, and I told myself you’d be better off without me. And maybe you were. But I wasn’t better off without you. I fell apart. And I kept trying to write it into a song like that would make it okay. But it didn’t. It just made it worse. Because every song still sounded like you.”

Your breath caught. “I loved you,” you said, voice trembling. “You were it for me. You were everything. And when we ended, I didn’t know how to breathe anymore.”

His hand reached across the table. He stopped just short of touching yours.

“Do you still feel it?” he asked, voice barely there. “Because I do. It’s been years and I still feel it.”

You looked down at his hand, trembling slightly. And you reached out. You laced your fingers through his. The touch felt familiar. Like home.

“I never stopped,” you admitted. “Loving you.” His eyes closed. Like he was praying. Or finally exhaling.

When he opened them, he leaned forward, and there was a soft desperation in his voice when he asked, “What do we do now?”

You squeezed his hand. “We start slow. We talk. We figure it out.”

His smile was small. Fragile. But real. “Can I take you to dinner tonight?” he asked.

You raised an eyebrow, teasing. “A little fast for starting slow, isn’t it?”

He grinned for real this time. “Okay. Lunch?”

You laughed. It felt good. Light. Like oxygen after being underwater. “Lunch sounds good.”

Maybe this time, Billy wouldn’t go and mess it up.

[burnthoneydrops]

Luckiest Man on the Planet (g.d. x fem!reader)

pairing: graham dunne x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k (whoops, had fun with this one haha)

warnings: talk of having children, use of "she/her" pronouns, Billy (if he counts as his own warning)

a/n: I miss when djats was popular on here so I decided to hopefully help the revival by adding the to the graham fic collection! hope everyone enjoys, this one's just cute. also REQUESTS ARE OPEN

You wanted-no needed- this moment to be perfect. You were not going to be happy if the money you had spent on plane tickets was going towards a ruined surprise, so you absolutely needed this to be perfect. It felt weird complaining about your long distance relationship when it wasn’t long distance all of the time and you knew other couples had it worse, but you’d be damned if your heart didn’t sink a little every time you thought about how far away Graham was, and would continue to be, for the next few months. That distance wouldn’t last forever though, thank the universe, as the people at the gate’s front desk were announcing that your flight to New York would start boarding shortly. 

“Ok, they’re about to start boarding, but I’ll call you when I land ok?” You hugged the phone to your ear, peering over your shoulder to make sure you weren’t missing anything and twisting the spiral cord with your finger. 

“Yeah, sounds good. I told Rod that we’d need an extra car to be sent to the airport so you won’t need a cab or anything,” Eddie replied through the phone. 

“Oh, you didn’t need to do that,” you laughed, flattered by the effort. 

“Oh yes I did. I-We’re not having you come all the way out here just to get stuck in New York traffic”. 

“Anything that gets me to Graham faster. And you guys of course,” you quickly added before saying your goodbyes, noticing the boarding line was getting smaller. 

The plane was incredibly boring, and the baby two rows behind you did not shut up the entire time, but you realised you managed to make that about Graham too, wondering how you two would handle it differently if it was your child screaming in a crowded plane. Luckily you had brought a book with you to zone in on, but nothing holds more power than the lungs of an upset child. You couldn’t stop your knee from bouncing, meaning you accidentally bumped too hard and kicked the seat of the person in front of you, earning some not so polite stares from the elderly man who sat there. Relief flooded over you when you heard the pilot announce that you would soon be landing, so much so that you kicked the seat once again, gaining another dirty look. 

As you stood up to exit your row, you looked across the plane, making eye contact with the previously screaming child. The little girl stopped wriggling around in her mother’s arms, staring at nothing but you as you gave her a little wave with the hand not holding your carry on. You smiled before the man behind you got impatient and cleared his throat as an indication that he wanted to move forward, so you only widened your smile with one last wave before hearing the baby laugh as you left the area. You and Graham hadn’t even had the talk about whether you wanted kids, not to mention how you would raise them or what kind of life they would lead. You had no doubt he would be a great father, but with the band already raising Julia, you figured you could push that thought out of your head for a little longer. 

When you were able to escape the gaggle of people who were standing in the boarding area you had just entered, you visually located the nearest phone, putting your backpack and suitcase aside to call Eddie. You glanced at the hotel’s phone number you had scribbled on the back of your boarding pass when you called from L.A., and started tapping your foot once again as the phone rang aggressively in your ear. 

“Hey, you made it,” you sighed in relief when Eddie answered the phone. 

“The most boring cross country flight of my life, but yes I made it,” you chuckled. 

“The only cross country flight of your life if I’m not mistaken. You rode in the van with us from Pittsburg, remember?” 

“How could I forget the bumpy roads and almost running out of gas in the middle of nowhere Missouri?” 

“But it was more enjoyable than what you just went through?” 

“Well yeah. Anytime with you is more enjoyable than by myself,” you glanced out the window at the line of planes waiting to take off as there’s an awkward pause on the line. “I mean, the band makes everything more fun,” you continued, hoping the conversation hadn’t died. 

“Right, yeah for sure,” Eddie came back to life, informing you soon after that there’d be a taxi driver waiting for you. He shouldn’t be hard to spot, you had been promised, and with how much you just wanted to run into Graham’s arms right now, you hoped for everyone’s sake that that was true. The taxi driver was easy enough to spot, holding a white sign with your name scribbled on it and an uncomfortable look on his face in the crowded area. He reached out his arm to you, which made you chuckle in response before shaking his hand, trying to keep your backpack atop your shoulder. 

“Your bag, miss,” he gestured to the suitcase you currently were wheeling behind you, and you realised that he really didn’t want to shake your hand and now his sweaty palm was awkwardly entangled in yours. You quickly let go before clearing your throat in embarrassment and handing him your bag, after which he quickly made his way to the exit doors so you two could finish this journey as quickly as possible. You used the time in the taxi to take in all the sites of New York. You had been as a kid, but it felt different now, like there was something new in the air. The hotel crept into view as the traffic was touch and go, but soon enough you were informing the lady working the front desk that you had a reservation and picked up a spare key to Graham’s room. You and Eddie agreed that you could use the time the band would be soundchecking at the venue to settle into Graham’s room for after the surprise, and you had thanked him again profusely when you heard Billy yelling down the hallway that they were all going to be late. Billy’s yelling was not something you missed while they were on tour, but if it came as a side effect of being in Graham’s arms again, you would listen to it again and again. 

The buzz in the venue was palpable when you walked in through the side entrance, trying to keep yourself hidden as much as possible given your mission. The bar at the back of the venue seemed like a great place to hide, and you kept yourself occupied by browsing the alcohol choices and chatting with the bartender until you heard three familiar voices making their way over. Warren, Eddie and Graham had decided to come up to the bar and you quickly ducked down under the bar, hoping the bartender wouldn’t expose you while they were there. You kept your back against the main island, facing the wall of bottles and mirrors, just being able to see the top of the familiar head of curls from your angle. The thin bottles distorted him a little bit, but your heart swelled at the sight of Graham just as it did every other time. 

“Tonight’s gonna be great man,” Warren commented, the bartender sliding a glass over to him. 

“Yeah, the fans aren’t even outside yet and the energy is killer,” Eddie replied, and you thought of the line of people you had passed out front on your way around the building. Thankfully no one had recognized you, and it only filled you with pride to see everyone who was there to support them. 

“Yeah,” Graham nodded, sounding more sullen than usual. 

“Come on man, lighten up. You’ve been acting weird since we got in the van this morning,” Warren nudged him, and you heard a leg kick the supporting wall of the island. 

“He’s just upset that his usual good luck call didn’t go through,” Eddie added. 

Graham got in the habit of calling you before every show as a nervous tendency, as the sound of your voice usually calmed him down better than whatever cheesy peptalk Billy wanted to give. 

Warren whistled when Graham didn’t reply, and you figured he made a face of some kind, exposing that Eddie was right. “Man, she has got you hooked, lined and sinkered”. 

“And what if she does? She always answers, so I feel out of sorts I guess. When you guys find people to love, you’ll understand,” Graham replied, trying to keep it light hearted at the end. 

“Hey, that was personal”. 

“Woah dude, what was that for?” He had set the boys in a defensive spiral. 

“We get it, you think she’s the one or whatever,” Warren teased. 

Your cheeks heated up, and it took all of you to stay in your crouched position, hoping nothing was going to squeak or hiss and give you away. The boys finally decided to walk away when Karen called them, saying they had to clear out before they opened the doors. You let out a loud sigh of relief when the bartender gave you a thumbs up to say they were gone, as being able to move your legs from their cramped position was a god send. 

“That kid seems to really love you,” the bartender commented as he gave you his hand to help you up. 

“Yeah well, I really love him too,” you said, not looking at him but at the stage where your boyfriend and his band would soon be standing. 

As the crowd shuffled in, you tried to stay relatively in the middle, hoping that whatever part of the stage Graham stood on he would be able to see you eventually. There was a hushed sensation in the crowd as people chatted and got drinks, but as the lights dimmed, the excitement grew, and a few people started whooping and cheering prematurely. Pretty soon the band was running on stage to an enormous eruption of applause, and the smile on each of their faces made you smile even bigger. From Chuck’s garage in Pittsburg to selling out venues across the country, you could not be more proud of the people in front of you, and you hoped all your efforts today proved that. 

“Well hello there everybody,” the familiar redhead greeted the audience, gaining even more shouts and cheers of joy from the people in front of her. “We’ve got a very special performance for you tonight, so we hope you’re ready to rock just as much as we are. How’s everybody feeling tonight?!” She yelled into the microphone as people clapped and hollered back. “Alright well, let’s see what you’ve got!” She smiled as Warren counted everybody off from his spot on the back of the stage and it was like the gates were opened at the Kentucky Derby. The energy radiating off of the band members and the audience was infectious, but you had your sights set on one person. Graham always did look his happiest on stage, getting to do what he loved with people he loved, and you were always excited when you got to witness that pure, unbridled joy on his face. 

A few songs in, you noticed Karen scanning the crowd, and as she landed on your section, you gave her a small wave. Your hopes that she noticed you were answered as a large smile broke out on her face, glancing back at the keyboard in shock before looking back to make sure it was really you. You laughed and gave her a big thumbs up in confirmation, and she was quick to call Billy’s name, nodding her head in your direction. The second band member to notice you, Billy’s eyebrows went up in shock when he spotted you, a smirk and an eye roll being his secondary reaction before he turned back to the microphone. After you had confirmation that at least half of the stage knew you were there, you kept your attention on the other half, staring at Graham as he shredded the guitar. A light sheen of sweat had gathered on his forehead, and as he wiped his curls back with his sleeve, Billy took a few steps back to get his attention. You saw him whisper something in Graham’s ear before his eyes went manic, scanning the audience with intense feverency.

Once his eyes landed on yours, everything stopped. The people around you seemed to be dancing in slow motion, and the music sounded like blurred-together lines of nothing as you saw the biggest smile form on your boyfriend’s face. Everything might have stopped a little too abruptly, as you saw Daisy look back at him in confusion when there was suddenly no guitar part being played. He shook his head and started playing again, quickly making eye contact with you again; a state he would remain in the entire show. 

When the show was over, security scurried over to you as people filed out, informing you that you were to be taken backstage. You got a few odd looks from a couple of girls who had been standing around you during this invitation, but all you cared about was that the moment you had been waiting for was finally here. You followed behind them until you could see the group of familiar people chatting and packing up their equipment. Graham had his back turned to the door, but Eddie had spotted you first, shoving Graham’s shoulder and pointing to the door. It was then that you couldn’t contain your excitement anymore and you brushed past the security guards, breaking into a full sprint as Graham waited with open arms. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you jumped to wrap your legs around his, his grip tightening with every second as if you’d disappear when he’d let go. He laughed as he leaned his forehead on yours, the shock from your appearance having not quite worn off yet. 

“Oh my god I can’t believe you’re here,” he mutters, leaning his neck further back to actually see your whole face. 

“You didn’t think I’d miss seeing my favourite guitarist did you?” 

“I thought that was me?” Eddie teased from his spot against the wall, which earned him a slap on the bicep from Karen and a strict instruction to shut up. 

“How did you even? What? How are you-?” 

“Eddie and I arranged it all. I missed you too much to be stuck in L.A. all by myself”. 

“Oh my god, I’m so in love with you it’s not even funny,” Graham let out a breathy laugh and your heart almost stopped. Even though you two had been dating for a while, you had said that you wanted to take things slow, given that your last relationship didn’t end so well. This meant that even though you and Graham were both in agreement that you loved each other, this agreement had been almost exclusively nonverbal. Neither of you had said anything yet, partially in fear that you’d take things too quickly and someone would feel pressure (at least that’s what you felt when your ex wanted to take things at what felt like a million miles an hour). So, in an effort to keep things calm and relaxed, neither of you had said anything close to the L word, and this moment took you by surprise. 

Silence fell between the two of you, as Graham was waiting for you to say something and you were frozen. As if just realising what he said, Graham’s face fell into one of panic as he gingerly placed you down on the ground. “Oh no, I didn’t mean-. Please don’t take that to mean you have to say anything back I just-” 

“Graham?” You stopped him rambling as you saw Karen and Daisy corralling the boys out of the room. 

“Yeah?” 

“I love you,” you said without looking at him, mostly because you were scared he would bolt the other direction and you would fly back to L.A. in tears. 

You felt two fingers gently grab your chin, and Graham tilted your head up to look at him. “You sure? Cause I don’t want you to say it just because I said something”. 

You nodded, “I’m sure”. 

He smiled and let out another airy chuckle as he leaned down, grabbing both sides of your face before capturing your lips with his. The electricity between you started buzzing as it always did in moments like these, and he was quick to tap his fingers on your lower back, signalling you to jump up and wrap around him like you had previously. The two of you laughed in between kisses until you heard a gagging sound from down the hall. 

“Get a room!” Eddie yelled. 

“Where do you think we’re going?” Graham yelled back, causing you to laugh in embarrassment and bury your head in his shoulder. 

“I love you Graham,” you commented, though muffled from his shirt fabric. 

“What was that?” He teased. You knew damn well he heard you the first time. 

“I love you,” you said a bit louder, still in his shirt. 

“I’m sorry, one more time. I couldn’t hear you”. 

“God damn it Graham, I love you,” you finally lifted your head and said it while looking directly in his eyes. 

“I love you too, I just wanted to hear you say it again,” he laughed. “I’m the luckiest man on the planet!” He yelled for everyone to hear, gaining groans and yells of embarrassment and annoyance from his bandmates. Not that he cared though, he was just telling the truth.

[bi-bard]

You'll Always Be a Flower on my Skin and the Pain that I Am In - Daisy Jones Imagine [Daisy Jones & the Six]

Title: You'll Always Be a Flower on my Skin and the Pain that I Am In

Pairing: Daisy Jones X Reader

Based On: Your Needs, My Needs

Word Count: 1,812 words

Warning(s): LOOK HERE! addiction, unhealthy relationship, overdose, mention of sexual assault

Summary: (Y/n) and Daisy are two broken people that had learned to rely on each other. However, at what point does support become reliance? When does helping become enabling? What do you do when the person that probably saved you becomes the very reason that you haven't been able to save yourself?

Author's Note: THIS IS IMPORTANT! This is a story that I've been wanting to tell for a while, not specifically about this character, but in general. I've hesitated for a very long time out of fear of a variety of things. It is a heavy story and if you have any history with addiction (yourself or your friends/family/etc.), then I would advise that you skip this one. Thank you.

STICK SEASON (WE'll ALL BE HERE FOREVER) WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

----------------------

When I first met Daisy, we were in the crowd at the same concert.

We were both young and stupid kids trying to escape whatever was waiting for us outside of the venue that night.

I felt as if we stuck to each other. Two eyes always meant to lock. Meant to dance together, sing together. No matter what had happened before each of us walked into that room and what happened once we left, we were always meant to be stuck together.

We continued to grow through those concerts. We'd meet outside and find a way to sneak inside. We saw every show that we could get into.

Daisy was better at that than I was. She always had a charm about her. I would happily run in right behind her. Mostly because she usually had my hand clasped in hers anyway.

Being with Daisy was the first time that I felt truly accepted. I thought it had been the music and the crowds around me, but it was all her. She was this beacon of light for me. A lighthouse. I wasn't scared around her. I was more energetic. I was happier. For the time in my life, I had someone that I could truly find joy with.

We saw each other laugh and cry and go through these different moments and phases. I still remember when she told me her new name... her proper name. Daisy Jones.

I knew why she changed it, but she never talked about it. Neither one of us did. Our friendship was an escape from the shitty parts of the world, not a reminder.

And so, we continued. We continued going to shows and meeting these interesting people.

We were both in our late teens when Daisy came running up to me with a smile and a drink in her hand. We were at some party for some band that was admittedly shit.

She wrapped her arm around me as she excitedly yelled my name.

"Hi," I chuckled at her behavior.

"Try this," she held her cup out to me.

"Why," I asked.

"Because it's great," she explained simply.

"Are you..." I leaned forward, acting as if anyone here would truly care. "Are you drunk?"

"What? Nooo!" she shook her head. "Now, try this, please!"

That night, we both ended up stumbling onto my family's back patio. We laid on the wood and stared up at the sky. It was a new kind of escape for both of us. A true disconnect from all of the weight and fear and stress.

It was exactly what we needed.

"I wanna be a star," Daisy said quietly after a while.

I turned my head to her. "You will be."

She looked at me. "I know."

I chuckled.

"I'll bring you along with me," she promised. "Wherever I go, you go. Recording and performing. You can be backstage for every performance. All while you write that fancy book of yours."

"I'll write my book on you," I replied. "You'll be the main character. The star of the show. Just like you already are."

"I like the sound of that," she muttered. She reached over and grabbed my hand. "We are gonna do some great things, (Y/n) (Y/l/n)."

"Yes, we are, Daisy Jones."

We kept going. Going and going.

Drinking turned into experimenting with drugs that Daisy would score from some guy that she knew.

And no matter how out of control we ever got, we were doing great work. We were finding stories and words and sentences that neither one of us ever knew we were looking for.

It was perfect.

She kept her promise.

I was dragged to every party. Every concert she ever attended. I met everyone that she did. We became known as a duo. A reputation. We had a reputation. It was funny to think about even then.

I was there when we realized that her lyrics had been stolen. That guy was an absolute prick, by the way.

I was there when she performed at Simone Jackson's show.

I remember trying to talk her into taking Teddy Price's offer. She refused. She hated the idea of being put in some small box.

I got dragged to the studio when she recorded her first song with the Dunne Brothers.

I was there when they become Daisy Jones & the Six.

We were parts of every single major life event. We witnessed our personal histories. I knew her story like the back of my hand. She could probably recite mine in an album; a song dedicated to the

And I thought that it was a good thing. Daisy did too.

I didn't think about the true nature of our friendship before Daisy ran off before she ran off and got married before the tour started.

It was like being forced to look at old pictures of yourself. You could see the wrinkles that you didn't notice developing over the slow course of time. You could see the dramatic change in height. You could see how your face changed and sharpened.

I was suddenly forced to see how time had changed us. We still fit, but we were deteriorating. Crumbling. All that was truly holding either one of us together was the drinking and the drugs. And we both wanted to claim that it was art.

I continued claiming that it was all due to the art.

Through all of the tour dates and the messes. The fights and the yelling. God, it got so loud with both Daisy and Billy there.

And then, Daisy almost overdosed.

That was when it felt like everything suddenly stopped.

Nicky- Daisy's husband- had run for it. Billy found me in the bathroom trying to help her as I hyperventilated and shook and cried. He took her from me. I curled up against a different wall, just watching silently.

And I realized that I couldn't do it anymore.

I wasn't even thinking about getting myself treated. I didn't think that I could get better. But Daisy... she could do amazing things. I couldn't watch her fall apart anymore.

I packed the next day.

She didn't notice me packing my bags while she was ranting and pacing my room. She was still so angry and upset about Nicky. I understood that. I would have been pissed.

I was only scared of what happened when that anger was aimed at me.

"What are you doing," she finally asked.

"I... I'm leaving," I admitted, staring down at the bag.

"Now?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I need to."

She scoffed. "Does this really seem like the best time to do this?"

"Yes."

"I just almost fucking died-"

"That's why I have to do this now!"

I finally turned to look at her. We stood in complete silence for the longest time. Just staring at each other.

The worst part was that she was amazing. She was everything that I wanted to be. Confident and clever and funny and just... everything. But I could see that if I continued to see her that way, then I would never be able to help her.

"You're just gonna fucking abandon me?" she muttered. "After everything we've been through? All these years? All because I screwed up?"

"Daisy, we are both screwed up people," I corrected. I felt the tears welling up in my eyes as my voice started shaking. "Neither one of us is fucking healthy. For ourselves or for each other. And I know that you could be amazing. You can be so much better. But if I stay, then I will always be in the way of what you could become. You will never get better with me around."

"You don't know that-"

"But I do. I really do. I have watched both of us try to get better and be better and it has never worked. I am a weight on your back, Daisy. I am a constant reminder... I would always pull you back and we both know that. And I'm sorry that it's taken me so long to realize it. I'm sorry-"

"Stop acting like this is an act of fucking kindness!" she snapped at me. "You are selfish! You are running from the mess! What is it really? Tell me! Is it because of what I'm doing while you can't get a fucking word published? Is that it? Some weird, pent-up jealousy?"

"Daisy, no," I shook my head. "If I stay, then we will both continue on this fucking path. There are two ways that ends: we despise each other or one of us fucking dies!"

Her jaw clenched.

I felt sick to my stomach.

"Well, you don't have to wait," she forced a smirk. One of those angry smirks that would rest on her face to hide her anger or sadness. She had never pointed that smirk at me. "I already fucking despise you, so you can fucking go whenever your bags are packed. Have a nice life!"

She stormed out a few moments later. I flinched a bit as the door slammed shut behind her.

I put a hand over my mouth as I finally broke down sobbing.

I sat down next to my bag for a moment.

The weight of the moment sat on my shoulders and held me there.

I lost the one most constant thing in my life. I lost the person that I found the most joy with.

And it was my fault.

--

"What happened after you left?"

I blinked a few times and looked at Julia- the young woman that was interviewing me. She was Camila's daughter.

I hadn't kept much contact with everyone around the band, but Camila had tried. She sent me a letter after my book had been published. It felt wrong to reject her daughter's request.

"I... I went home," I replied. "To my parents' place. They helped me find treatment and get back on my feet. After that, I got my book published. I kind of just... forced myself to keep going."

"You never reached out to Daisy?"

"It felt like too much of a risk. And I never thought that she'd want to hear from me."

"Oh," she murmured.

"I always wanted to," I explained. "I did. I just... I couldn't."

She nodded, pausing for a moment before speaking up, "If it's any comfort at all... Daisy's the one that asked me to talk to you."

"Really?"

Julia nodded again, a grin spreading on her face. "She wanted me to mention how much she loved your books."

"Oh," I felt a smile pulling at my lips at the idea.

"I don't think she despises you as much as she used to."

I looked down at my lap for a moment. "I hope so."

If that were the case, it made everything feel like it was much more worth it.

----------------------

Author's Note: I cried while writing the last half of this. Just in case y'all were wondering about the toll that this story took on me.

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Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[c0renswet]

Request for Scott Miller!!

Everyone knows Scott is strict, never smiles all work no play. But when they finish out the storm chasing season he invites the storm par team to his house for an end of chasing season BBQ and they find out he has a whole damn wife at home who he is an absolute softie for!!

(He's got the house, the wife and the dog..... maybe potentially wife is pregnant??)

waaaait this is so cute

Rough Exterior (scott miller x reader)

warnings: kissing, scott being nice, mentions of alcohol/drinking

a/n: i’m getting caught up on requests so bear with me!! i promise i’m not ignoring you :)

“I didn’t know you were up to doing stuff like this.”

Javi stood next to Scott, beer bottle in hand.

“It’s not usually my forte, but she insisted on meeting you guys.”

Scott inquired, taking a sip of his own beer, eyes watching the other members of Storm Par gathered around the porch.

“She?”

Javi raised an eyebrow.

Before Scott could respond, you came out of the house, two plates of appetizers in your hands.

“Appetizers are ready!”

You exclaimed to the small crowd, setting the plates on the large table that stood in the center of the porch.

You turned, making your way over to where Scott and Javi were standing.

“Evening, boys.”

You smiled, taking the beer from Scott’s hand.

Javi smiled at you, noticing the ring on your hand when you raised the bottle to your lips.

“This is Javi,”

Scott introduced you, wrapping his arm around you. The scent of his cologne filled your nose, the softness of his black t-shirt brushed up against the skin of your arm.

Scott was taller than you— much taller— and he was big. You could feel the warmth from his chest as he held you to him.

“Javi, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

You smiled.

“Wish I could say the same.”

Javi responded, his tone coming out more cocky than he’d meant.

You looked at Scott. You knew he wasn’t one to get personal, but you were almost surprised he hadn’t mentioned you to the person he spent so much of his time with.

“Yeah, uh- sorry about that.”

Scott managed a smile and shrugged. You felt him pull you closer for a moment, almost like he was hugging you. There was a moment of silence.

“Hey, wanna meet everyone else?”

Scott broke the silence.

“That’s why they’re here right?”

You looked up at him, his blue eyes gazing into yours. His dark hair was brushed neatly, smooth waves framing his face beautifully.

Scott chuckled.

“Hey guys, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

The Storm Par crew turned to look at the two of you, their chatter quickly becoming silent.

“This is my beautiful wife, y/n.”

Scott rubbed your shoulder with the hand that was holding you. You smiled at the crew.

“Sorry he was hiding me from you, I guess I’m really that special.”

You teased, giving Scott a small elbow to his side.

“Finally, someone who managed to get through his personality.”

The crew laughed at the comment, Javi included.

“Alright, alright. Go back to your conversations.”

Scott rolled his eyes, taking his arm from around you and walking inside. You followed him and shut the back door behind you.

“Scott,”

Scott stopped in front of you and turned around. Before you could say anything, he kissed you. The kiss was deep, soft— loving.

“I love you.”

He whispered against your lips before pulling away completely.

“…I love you too.”

You smiled to yourself.

You were more than glad you’d been the one to break through his rough exterior.

[thewordswewrite]

Be My Guest

Pairing | Kate Carter x Tyler Owens

Summary | One time Tyler stays in Kate’s guest room and one time she stays in his

Warnings | discussions of trauma/injury associated with storm chasing, SMUT 18+

W/C | 6.6k

A/N | We wanted to hop into the Twisters fandom before it took ao3 by storm and this is *so far* what we've come up with. So...if you feel it... -smoe <33

AO3 | Link

Donations | Link 

Hers

She came home for safety, familiarity, to find her way forward but instead, she found herself more lost than when she’d arrived. 

It was only supposed to be a week. Sure, Kate thought it would be difficult to be back in the field but she hadn’t anticipated this. She hadn’t anticipated him. It shouldn’t matter. She had a job in New York, a life, a stable, safe job, her own apartment–everything she needed. But was it everything she wanted? 

What Tyler had said crossed a line but that didn’t mean it wasn’t the truth. It was just something she probably already knew, deep down, and hadn’t wanted to accept. She was running away from the storm but she should know better than most that it would always catch up.

With an aggravated sweep of her arm, all of her past research was on the floor, pages floating around her before finding a place to land. She almost immediately regretted the mess but it had felt good. For the last five years, she’s avoided risk but now it almost feels hypocritical to say that she misses it.

Kate bent to gather the papers but only grabbed a few before stopping at her Cloud Physics notebook which had fallen open to a familiar page. She sat down in front of it and traced the impressions of her writing on the pages. It was too much to retrace her steps, to consider what had gone wrong. She needed to get out of her head and she couldn’t do that without getting out of this damn barn.

She knocked lightly on the kitchen door so as not to startle her mom. Being an adult, Kate felt an aversion to putting these things on her mom. Her mother had always been supportive, even when knowing her daughter’s passion was actively putting her in danger. Maybe she just didn’t want her mom to repeat the same sentiments as Tyler but she also knew she wasn’t about to come to any decision without some guidance. Just like seeing her middle school science project again, she felt like a child standing in the kitchen.

“Kate?”

“Yeah, it’s just me.” She sighed and pulled out the chair at the dining table that had always belonged to her. The smell of whatever her mother was stirring made her stomach grumble. “Where’s Tyler?”

“Oh, he drove pretty far so he’s getting cleaned up.” Kate could tell her mom was trying to sound uninterested, maybe for her sake but still she asked, “What’s his story anyway?”

“He’s just some internet star from Arkansas,” She explained, picking at a stain on the table. For a moment she thought about leaving it at that but the fire he had lit in the barn was still burning inside her. Sardonically, she added, “He’s made a living as a so-called ‘Tornado Wrangler’ but so far he’s only shot some fireworks into a cyclone and nearly killed the reporter signed on to cover him and his team.”

Her mom chuckled and replied, “Sounds like a man looking for a thrill to me.”

Again, she felt like a child relaying the latest gossip from the schoolyard but she couldn’t help but continue.

“And his whole team is this ragtag group of people who’ve never been to school for this either!”

“I see.”

“I mean sure he’s studied meteorology but they could get seriously hurt.” Kate had busied herself by fiddling with a napkin she’d pulled from the homemade holder. The shreds of it were getting smaller and smaller.  “They’re no professionals.”

Her mom hummed, acknowledging her annoyance but countered with, “Well he doesn’t seem too bad to me, he did drive all the way here.” Although her mother graciously spared her the ‘for you’ that they both knew completed that thought, she felt its weight. It was easier to make him seem unlikeable than tell her mom that it was her that was in the wrong.

“You’d believe me if you saw the shirts he sells, his face all sprawled across them.” Kate laughed, thinking of the cheesy slogans. It wasn’t lost on her that she had assumed the worst of him. She thought back to what Lily had said and felt ashamed. “Though,” She conceded, “the money does pay for food for the aftermath survivors. They were handing it  out at the last town we were in after the tornado hit.”

“Not all bad then?” Her mother turned fully to face her and Kate knew her teasing expression said all she needed to know.

“I guess not.”

_ _ _

Dinner had been passable, if not enjoyable. Kate had figured it would be awkward, that the dynamic between her and her mom would be offset by Tyler’s presence but it had flowed easily. The only gripe she had was that her mother had gone over her head to invite him to stay the night. In her ideal world, she would’ve ushered him out right after dinner saying a quick thanks for his concern but sending him on his way knowing that she’d never have an obligation to speak to him again. 

Tyler had, of course, helped her mom with the dishes, leaving her to watch awkwardly so as not to take up unnecessary space in the small kitchen. She’d shot him a tight smile as he’d excused himself to his room for the night. 

“Well,” Her mom said from the doorway, “I’m off to bed. Shut the lights, will you?” She didn’t wait for an answer as she made her way past the living room to her bedroom. 

Kate tapped her fingers sporadically against the table, the sound echoing in the quiet house. She hadn’t been fully present for dinner. Every time she looked at Tyler she could only think about what she was doing wrong, what she was missing. As much as she resented the fact, there was no way she could make peace with the past couple of days if she didn’t get in another word with him.

She flipped the last of the switches off and made her way up the stairs, avoiding the ones she knew were extra creaky. At the landing, Kate considered just going to her bedroom but her feet kept their integrity and trudged her towards the guest room.

Her hand was poised to knock when the door opened.

“Kate?” The sound of his voice combined with the unexpected image made her jump. Whatever she had been prepared to say had left with her surprise but Tyler was already speaking again.  “Listen, what I said in the barn was out of line I shouldn’t have–”

“No you shouldn’t have…but you weren’t wrong either.”

Stepping back, he opened the door a bit more and though it wasn’t quite an invitation. It was a line she wasn’t sure she wanted to cross with his apology and her admittance the gist of what she’d hoped for. She promised herself that if he didn’t try to say anything else, she’d just turn around and walk away. He bit his lip, seeming to wrestle with something the same way she was.

“What’s the story behind you and Javi?” The question surprised her and she felt a vague excitement about his interest or rather the fact that he was interested at all. But the story itself was not something she was sure she could share.

“We met in college, he was friends with my…my boyfriend at the time.”

Tyler’s eyebrow raised in a silent question before he said, “And your boyfriend he was…”

She couldn’t stand in the hallway any longer where she was fully open to his scrutiny whether the story inspired pity or something else. Kate stepped past him into the room and started to explain,

“He was in the accident, along with two of my best friends.” She folded her arms across her chest, in a way trying to shield herself from the memories. “We were testing the polymer on what we thought was an EF1 but–”

“It was an EF5.” She nodded and his lips shifted into a sympathetic frown. Kate sat on the edge of the bed so that she didn’t have to face him head on.

She continued with, “So, I quit school and packed up to New York. Javi went back to Miami but because of the outbreak he thought he could use a second pair of eyes and invited me on.” From her peripheral, she could see the way he nodded along as she spoke, the genuine compassion still written in his features. She shrugged, unwilling to allow herself to feel the extent of the situation and the memories in front of him, “None of it matters though, I’ll be back in the city by the end of the week anyway.”

“You mean you’re giving up?” Tyler asked like it was somehow a personal affront to him or some greater injustice. Kate wasn’t sure what he cared. They’d only just met and he didn’t know her, not really. 

“I’m not giving up. I can’t live like this again, risking my life every day.”

“Because of the accident?” The way he said it, like it was only a passing moment and not something that monumentally changed not only her life but her, made her response sharp. 

“Yes, because of the accident.” 

He was unshaken by her hostility and placed a hand lightly on top of hers where it sat between them on the bed.

“Kate, I’ve seen people get hurt too, I’ve–” She couldn’t listen to this, couldn’t have him reduce her experience by comparison. If he thought this was the way to change her mind, he was sorely mistaken.

“Yeah, Tyler, well I got hurt. I watched people die, and I’ll bear those scars for the rest of my life.” Her body filled with tension of the memory as her breath began to quicken. She let the anger take over, the simplicity of it easier than the complicated truth. “I don't know why I even–”

 “Hold on–Kate!”

Kate could feel the air his failed reach created as he tried to grab her wrist to stop her. She was fast though, spurred on by the singular goal of getting the hell away from him. When she made it to the threshold of her room, she moved to shut the door. It almost slammed fully closed but groaned as the wood crashed into the foot he’d managed to snake in.

“Go to bed,” She demanded.

“So what, you’re going to help Javi line the pockets of Riggs for the rest of the week? The real estate shark that's directly profiting off the suffering of these people?” It seemed he couldn’t help, was adept at, pushing her buttons. If she were any bolder, she’d have already struck the self-righteous expression off his face.

“I didn’t know about that, I would have never–these are my people but this isn’t the way, the polymer didn’t work and people died because of it.”

“More will too, but only if you don’t do anything.” He tried to reach for her again but she shrugged away, “It could work. Together we could do this.” Tyler’s expression was pleading, his eyes urging her to make the right decision.

“Goodnight, Tyler.”

His

The flight was thankfully uneventful and much easier than her last flight to Oklahoma when she’d been dreading the very idea of her return. There were still memories that haunted the place she called home but now she could rest assured that they weren’t losses for nothing and that she may very well be able to save someone, hopefully many someones, from the same suffering she had endured for years.

Kate dragged her suitcases through the airport and the bustle of people coming and going made her feel oddly comforted. New York was easy to get lost in and for the time, it was exactly what she needed. But it had only ever been a place she ran away to and after a while she was running too fast to ever see it for what it was. Here, in Oklahoma, she was home.

She made her way out to the pickup lanes and was met with a calm blue sky, one that she knew–or maybe even hoped–wouldn’t last. At the five-minute mark, Kate was unbothered. By ten, she considered concern. By twenty, she was on the phone. It took three calls getting sent to voicemail before her mother picked up on the fourth.

“Hey, are you alright?” She tried not to sound too concerned but it wasn’t like her mother to forget an obligation or to not pick up the phone. 

“Oh, sunshine, I’m fine. It’s my truck that’s acting up,” Her mom replied. “I was on the road already when it decided to quit on me. I’m not sure how long repairs are going to take. You want me to call someone for you?” Kate sighed, more relieved by her mother’s well-being than bothered by the situation.

“No, don’t worry about it,” She answered, “As much as you don’t like it, I am a big girl. I can take care of it.”

“I know you can, baby. Don’t worry about making it here tonight, just take care of yourself.”

They exchanged ‘I love you’s before it sunk in that actually did have to take care of it. She found herself a spot on a nearby bench and tucked her luggage in beside her. Scrolling through her contacts, her thumb hovered over Javi before something urged her to keep going. Kate wasn’t sure if this was a bad idea but lately, she could handle a little risk.

“Hello?” She bit her lip, knowing this was her last chance to turn back. Still, he might not even be around or available to get her.

“Hey, Tyler?”

“Uh, yeah?” His voice was in performance mode, his uncertainty no match to his inherent charisma. Kate found herself filled with an urgent hope.

“It's Kate, Kate Carter.”

“Kate!” She could hear the smile in his voice. It was the first time she’d called him since he gave her his number and she was just beginning to regret not using it sooner. “What uh…what's going on?”

Her stomach flipped at the realization that she had to explain herself, that she wasn’t just calling him. Oh god, was this a mistake? Kate had thought there was something there when they were saying goodbye but maybe this was pushing it.  

“Are you in Oklahoma by any chance?”

“I am actually,” Tyler replied before he, with a hopeful tone, asked, “Are you here?”

“Do you think you could pick me up from the airport?” She fought the urge to cross her fingers like a little girl. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if she had to call Javi but she couldn’t help but want to see where this path led.

“Of course!” Her chest tightened, a mix between excitement and worry. “Is everything alright with your mom?” Kate’s cheeks flushed, touched by his concern. 

“Yeah–truck just wasn’t starting, don’t worry,” She said, hoping she sounded nonchalant.

“Alright then, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” In the background, Kate could hear his keys jingling already and she smiled to herself.

“Thanks so much. Bye.”

_ _ _

Kate had been inside, sitting at a cafe when her phone buzzed in her pocket, Tyler letting her know that he’d made it. She tossed out her empty coffee cup before regathering her things and taking a deep breath. If she was being honest with herself, she was excited to see him but she didn’t want to endure the inevitable teasing she’d be subject to should she seem too eager to be in his presence.

The sliding doors opened and it took her a minute to spot the familiar red truck. Her eyes followed the path to where Tyler was busy basking in the attention of an adoring fan. What more could she expect?

“And did you want this signed cause I could definitely sign this for you.”

He didn’t notice as she siddled up, even with the rumble of her suitcases on the concrete. She shook her head at the display of his ‘Tornado Wrangler’ persona and thought better than to let him off the hook.

With the exaggerated voice of a dedicated fan, she implored, “Oh my goodness! Is that Tyler Owens? I am your biggest fan!”

“That’s me darlin’, what can I do for–Kate.” He cleared his throat and straightened out his posture, putting on the real Tyler at the sight of her. Kate bit her lip, sparing him the laugh that threatened to escape her.

“Tyler,” She said, “You look good.”

“Well, I feel good.” Tyler stood with his hands on his hips, the two of them alone now and it seemed neither of them knew just what to say. She laughed at his remark and began to heave her luggage into the bed. Before she could lift the larger of the two bags, Tyler was stopping her with a hand on her wrist. Kate looked up at him, confused. 

“Don’t make me make you get in the truck.” She glared at him, gauging whether or not he was serious. He only matched her expression. “Get in the truck,” Tyler repeated.

Kate rolled her eyes and climbed into the passenger seat. She couldn’t help but lean over toward the shift, running her fingers across the buttons. Her pointer finger landed on the tape labeled, ‘Kate’s Barrels’ and traced over his writing. When the driver's door opened, she jumped at the movement and tore her hand away. 

“Headed to your mom’s?” Tyler asked, fingers tapping a rhythm onto the wheel.

“Uh, no actually just any motel close would be good. Home’s a bit far and the flight was long. I just want to go to bed.” She reminded herself that that was the only reason.

“I’m close,” He told her. Since when was he close? “I mean you could stay in my guest room and I could take you back to Sapulpa in the morning?” The idea sounded as equally dangerous as it was appealing. With a motel, she was in control of the situation but his place? There was no knowing.

Clearing her throat she answered, “That…sounds fine.”

Tyler tipped his hat toward her and then he was making his way out of the parking spot. For a little while, they sat in comfortable silence, the radio filling the empty space between them. Once they were outside the city, it was comforting to watch as farmland made up her view. The word rattled in her head again. Home.

“So, how did it end up going with the investors?” He asked. “Good, I assume since you’re back in Oklahoma.” Kate couldn’t help but smile knowing well enough already how happy he’d be to hear. Not to mention how happy she was to achieve something she’d been chasing since the possibility entered her mind.

“Yeah, it went very well actually. We uh–we got a lot of people interested and the offers were so good…I quit my job and sold the apartment. I’m back, back.”

Tyler’s smile grew to a million watts as he exclaimed, “Kate! That’s amazing!”

“Thank you, we’re really excited.” She thought she saw his grin falter a bit but she couldn’t pin down why. Still, after a moment he let out a whoop, honking the horn at the expense of the car in front of them. Kate laughed, placing her hand over his to keep him from doing it again.

“So, where you planning on living? With Javi?”

“Actually I’m not sure yet. Javi has this new girlfriend from back in Miami and they’re pretty wrapped up in each other.” His eyebrows raised and she continued, “My mom's kind of out of the way too. Plus, she’s thinking of selling since seed prices just keep going up. Says she’s sick of the weather.”

Tyler’s jaw went slack, exaggerating his shock. “Sick of the–Sick of the weather?”

“What can I say, she doesn’t appreciate the beauty of the storm.” Kate sighed theatrically. Her hand went to her forehead in a ‘woe is me’ gesture. He chuckled, punching her playfully in the arm.

“On the topic of prices though, she is right.” Tyler sighed as he turned onto a new street.  “That’s why I bought land and started from the ground up.”

“Land?” She repeated. It hadn’t been that long that she’d been gone. When and more so why had he decided to put down roots and outside of Arkansas for that matter.

“Yes, ma’am.” His mouth quirked up in a prideful smirk.

“And here I thought I’d be sharing some shitty motel room.”

They pulled into a long dirt driveway, the grass surrounding it still young. While the house was clearly new, the style had a nostalgic feel to it. It was painted a fresh shade of cream and the white wrap-around porch just screamed summer nights. If she didn’t know better she’d think she was going to visit some sweet old lady.

“Here we are, home sweet home.”

Tyler opened her door for her like a proper gentleman and she stepped out into pleasant fresh air. The whole thing was picturesque. Kate supposed she shouldn’t really be surprised considering she didn’t really know his tastes but the whole thing surprised her nonetheless. 

She followed Tyler through the front door as he carried her bags inside. The interior was just as sweet as the exterior had been but Kate could see the signs that were uniquely him. There were various piles and pieces of gear strewn about that she recognized from having filled her mother’s house with. Even with the classic style, the appliances and layout were tastefully modern. She was impressed.

Kate stepped into the kitchen which seemed to be the most lived-in room. There were pictures of the Wranglers and what she assumed was his family stuck to the fridge. Her eyes drifted to a bulletin board hung up next to it and tacked up in the center of it was a page ripped out of their article from Ben, one with a picture of her. She could feel her cheeks flush even with him still in the other room. Though she wanted to, Kate knew she wouldn’t mention it.

“You hungry?” She jumped at the sound of Tyler’s voice.

“No, I couldn’t–” The same look that urged her to ‘get in the truck’ painted his face and she reconsidered her answer. “Starved.”

Tyler seemed satisfied. He pulled out a seat at the kitchen island where she could have a clear view of him whipping something together. The whole thing felt unnervingly domestic but she enjoyed it all the same.

“This place is really nice, Tyler,” Kate said. Gesturing toward his tricked-out home office–that was maybe a little too nice for a YouTube star–she pointed out, “Got a nice setup too.”

“Yeah, the team has pretty much paired off and they live here and there but we come back for a warm meal more often than not.”

“Not you though?” It had crossed her mind that maybe the sudden home ownership had been a response to some sort of serious relationship. She tried to sound casual since it wasn’t really any of her business.

Tyler smiled and shrugged. “Nah, a fearless leader has to hold down the fort.” Kate rolled her eyes and laughed at his cockiness. It was better knowing that it didn’t run deep. She thought better than to push it but still, she wanted to know what this whole thing was for.

“No, but seriously, why a house?”

“Oklahoma is the past, present and future of tornadoes. That’s no secret,” He replied like it was some well-known slogan. Yeah, the outbreak they experienced had put Oklahoma back on the map but Tornado Alley spanned a wide area, including Arkansas. 

“How do you figure?”

“Well you’re here, aren’t you?” Her stomach sank, trying to decipher the meaning behind what he said. His focus was trained on the pot in front of him like what he’d said was no big deal. What was she supposed to say to that?

Without an answer, Tyler clarified, “You’ve got better instinct than anyone I’ve ever met, better than any Doppler too.”

He’d turned to her and winked in her continued silence. Kate nodded with a smile like it was casual to her too. She shifted under his intense gaze and thought it was an apt time to break the tension with something she’d been tossing around in her mind. He laid a plate of spaghetti in front of her before sitting down himself. She cleared her throat.

“I was going to wait to bring this up but…I was wondering if you would consider being partners.”

“Really?” The excitement on his face was genuine and Kate could see the surprise too. It made her feel secure in her decision. 

“Javi and I both have stakes in it but he’s avoiding the field as much as he can right now. He’s got the business side under control but, like I said, he’s got someone at home who’d prefer he didn’t get blown away.”

Tyler stayed practically frozen in place. Maybe she’d overstepped her bounds after all. She could tell herself all she wanted that she wouldn’t be hurt if he didn’t want to partner with her but that didn’t make it the truth. 

“What do you say, me and you?” Kate asked, bracing for his answer.

“You and me,” Tyler replied genuinely and with what she hoped was a hint of awe.

They ate silently, half from hunger and half in consideration of their future. As much as Kate didn’t want to admit it, there were other questions lingering between them. When her plate was cleared, he insisted on taking care of the simple cleanup himself leaving Kate to sit idly at the kitchen table, unable to get anywhere else without his direction anyway.

With the dishes washed, Tyler turned his attention back to her but it seemed he had just as much of an idea of how to proceed as she did.

“So, uh…” She began, uncertain where she was going.

“I bet you probably want to get cleaned up. There’s an en suite in the guest room.”

“Yeah, great.” As much as she wanted to bolt, Kate got up from the table slowly as if she were as calm as could be. Still, she didn’t wait for any instructions as to where to go. She didn’t turn back to look at him as she climbed the stairs, internally cursing herself for adding to the awkward atmosphere.

“First door on the right!” Tyler called after her because, of course, she hadn’t asked.

_ _ _

The warm water had been just what she needed, especially paired with the time away from Tyler to think. As much as there had been a sense of tension between them, her feelings had settled on contentment and maybe even excitement. They were partners now and they had plenty of time to figure everything and anything else out. They’d been through hell already and he would help her through it again.

She stepped out of the shower, her feet hitting the plush bath mat, and reached for a towel. Her hand grabbed only air. Upon further inspection, the towel rack was completely unoccupied. Shit.

“Um, Tyler?” Kate called. She waited a few minutes for his response and when it didn’t come she yelled louder. “Tyler!” She let out a breath when she heard his footsteps on the stairs.

“Yeah?” 

“There are no towels in here!”

“Shit. My bad, no one has used that bedroom yet,” Tyler explained. His feet were already causing the wood floor to creak when he assured, “I’ll grab you one, be right back.”

Kate couldn’t believe this was happening. There was a good chance that she’d expose herself in the exchange. She’d even left her clothes on the bed, choosing to strip before going to the bathroom.

A few minutes later there was a hesitant knock on the door.

“Here, I brought you a few. I don’t know what you prefer,” Tyler said.

She had to assume that he was smart enough not to look. He’d been nothing but polite after all. When she opened the door, his eyes were covered by the palm of his hand, and his other arm was extended out to her. Kate tried not to laugh at the look of him.

“Thanks.” 

Kate wrapped the largest towel around herself and used another to dry the excess moisture from her hair. She pulled the door back open, assuming he was gone but she was met with his figure, eyes still shielded. Nearly bumping right into him, she let out an involuntary sound something between a squeak and a groan. Tyler echoed the sound and quickly flipped his hand so he could see her. She had to assume that his subsequent turning around was motivated by her state of undress.

She didn’t know what else to do besides starting to dress. It seemed he wasn’t done talking to her just yet. After a moment, he spoke.

“Uh, Kate…I, uh, realized I didn’t say thank you just then for considering me.”

“Who else could I possibly consider?” She winced at her own words. By no means did Kate want to sound like she was unhappy, she just didn’t want to make it a big deal between them.

“Well, right, I guess there’s not many storm chasers to begin with and especially not ones who’ve studied meteorology.” Kate could hear the slight hurt in his voice even as he tried to tease and she couldn’t blame him. She’d said the wrong thing. She quickly finished pulling on her pajama pants so she could focus on the conversation before she said something else she regretted.

“Tyler,” She said softly. He still had his back considerately turned to her. Like a kid trying to pass notes in class, Kate tapped his shoulder to get his attention. Tyler smiled as he faced her and it gave her the boost she needed to say what she wanted.  “You’re the reason I’m doing this in the first place. You believed in me even when I didn’t. We’re going to be helping people and that’s because of you.”

He was shaking his head before she’d even finished.

“You can’t believe that, it's your polymer, your idea–”

She took a confident step forward, the action effectively shutting him up. The closer Kate got the more she angled up at him, his height towering over her. Her hand found its way to his jaw, cupping it gently, her thumb brushing over the stubble of his skin. Before she had the chance to close the distance, Tyler took his chance to capture her lips with his own.

It started slow, hesitant to the possibility of too much too fast but quickly gained momentum as they threw caution to the wind. It had been years since Kate had done this, never quite feeling able to move on from Jeb and the accident but now with a sense of closure and Tyler’s guiding hand she felt ready.

His mouth was eager as their kiss deepened, Tyler’s tongue painting the inside of her mouth, almost as if he was committing it to memory. Their heavy breaths filled the air and neither of them seemed willing to break the kiss as the minutes went on. It wasn’t until her fingers played at the hem of his shirt that he broke off, looking down at her through hooded eyes, his mouth swollen and flushed.

“Kate…”

The sight was too much and she couldn’t help but bring her lips back to his skin. They found purchase at his pulse point, kisses littering his neck as she made her intentions known to him with every touch.

Taking a step back, Tyler’s hands cradled her face and he searched her eyes, looking for what she wasn’t sure but when he seemed to find it a smile broke across his face. It was the same smile he sported every time the wind picked up and the radar lit up red: a man ready to face a challenge.

“You still wanna stay in my guest room?” He asked, though his joking town was limited by his heavy breathing. Kate knew he was teasing but he was just as eager as she was.

“If you keep up with that attitude I just might,” She replied, smiling ruefully.

“Honey,” Tyler beamed, “all I’ve got is attitude.”

A chuckle escaped her lips and his face turned from cocky to sincere before he leaned in to steal a kiss once more. His hands moved from her face to grasping her own as he led her to what she assumed was his room.

Kate struggled to keep up as he held his hands behind him for her to grasp. She held them awkwardly as the unusual position did not grant her a good grip. The playful air gave her butterflies but also made her feel a sense of safety, knowing that things didn’t have to be heavy between them.

Tyler turned, pulling their hands over his head so that Kate twirled around with him. He used the momentum to guide her backward into his room with his hands on her hips, attempting a cheesily seductive smolder. She used her heel to kick the door shut behind them.

Kate walked ahead of him to go sit on the edge of his bed. She could tell he was watching her closely to consider his next move but she enjoyed the idea of playing coy with him. Ignoring him, she took in the space which was surprisingly sparse especially compared to the ground floor.

“Wow, real homey in here,” Kate joked, feigning awe at the blank walls

“Oh, hush,” Tyler chided, “It hasn’t been that long since we finished construction.”

She put up her hands in surrender and replied, “Sure, sure.” He rolled his eyes at her and then his expression became soft again. Tyler walked forward, kneeing her legs open and standing between them. With just a tilt of her head they were kissing again and this time when she grabbed his shirt, he let her take it off of him. Kate paused a moment to take him in, the image one she intended to commit to memory before pulling her own shirt over her head.

The rest of their clothes came quickly but when it was time for her to remove her jeans she hesitated.

“We don’t have to do this.” Tyler reassured her, misreading her reluctance. Kate shook her head.

“It's not that it’s–” She huffed in frustration and rather than continue to overthink, pulled her pants down in one swift motion, hoping he’d move past the interruption rather than linger on the issue.

Instead, his eyes moved immediately to her lower half and zeroed in on her leg…her scar. Kate’s stomach began to churn. She knew that he knew the story but she hated that it had to be part of this moment between them. He had been part of making it possible for her to redeem herself, to make sure the losses were not worth nothing. Still, the memories and the physical signs would never leave her. It made her insecure but if he had a problem with it, this wasn’t worth continuing.

“Is this from…”

“Yes,” Kate replied flatly. She didn’t have anything to prove and she wanted more than anything to move on from this as soon as possible. Tyler looked up from the marred skin on her leg and cupped her face with one of his hands. His eyes were filled with pure admiration.

“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

Tyler’s lips were on hers again as he leaned her back into the bed, his body sculpting to hers. She felt a hand trail down her body, over her ass, before he hoisted her leg over his shoulder, his face turning towards her thigh and kissing over her scar as he lined himself up with her entrance. He looked at her until she realized he was waiting for her cue. She grabbed onto his upper arms and nodded, making it clear she was ready.

He was slow with her, caressing in all the right spots and making sure she was comfortable until he was finally fully inside her and they moaned in unison at the feeling. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time and when he took a moment to brush the hair from her face it made it all that much sweeter so much so that she laughed. Tyler looked at her, concerned but when she kissed him, he smiled into it catching her drift.

As he began to grind into her, he coaxed mewls from her lips, her hips meeting his instinctually at the pleasure. The way he watched her carefully for her reactions made her heart soar. He made it evident that they were in this together, that he cared about making her feel good. One of Tyler's hands still held her leg while the other found her clit, circling it while keeping pace and she couldn’t help the words spilling from her mouth.

“Tyler,” Kate pleaded, “Don’t stop.” He listened to her demand but she could see how it made him falter. His expression was that of awe as if he couldn’t believe that he was here with her, that she was enjoying what he was doing for them. She curled an arm around his neck and played with the hair there in a way that caused him to flush.

“I gotcha,” Tyler promised, somehow pressing them closer together, “I gotcha.”

She could’ve been embarrassed at how fast she came but Tyler didn’t give her a chance, instead riding her out through her climax and continuing to thrust even after. It was almost too much as tears of pleasure pricked her eyes and her moans filled the room. Her hands gripped the sheets, his arms, his hair, anything that she could reach to keep hold of her senses as they were overwhelmed. All she could think or comprehend was Tyler.

“I–I’m close,” He stammered, the tremble in his voice radiating throughout his body, “Kate, I–”

Her vision went white when she came again, though she could hear Tyler moan her name like a mantra, his head buried in her neck. One hand reached into his hair while the other traced absent circles on his back. It took him a minute but eventually, he came back to her.

“Hey,” He said, letting out a breathy laugh. 

“Hi.”

Tyler pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, clearly savoring the moment. Kate didn’t want it to end either but she was confident that it was only beginning. They both let out their own versions of a disappointed noise as he pulled out.

When he disappeared into the ensuite, she pulled his comforter up around her, the scent of him enveloping her as well. He came back with a damp towel and once helped her clean up, he flopped into bed beside her, pulling her into his side.

Kate placed a hand on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat under her palm. Tyler pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She wanted to bask in the moment a bit longer but before she knew it she was beginning to yawn. 

The last thing she remembered before she fell into a peaceful sleep was the sweet kiss they shared and the soft rumble of his voice.

“Goodnight, Kate.”

[ama0310]

Silver Springs (S.R)

Character: Spencer Reid

Requested: No

Type: Angst

Summary: A chance encounter during a murder investigation forces Spencer to confront his past when he comes face-to-face with Y/N, his ex-girlfriend and new victim, rekindling old feelings and tensions.

AN: It's basically Daisy Jones & the Six meets Criminal Minds type of vibe.

"Another day, another case."

Spencer Reid had grown accustomed to the relentless pace of his work with the BAU. Evil, it seemed, never took a day off.

This explained why he now found himself en route to interview the latest victim, accompanied by Morgan.

Four murders in two weeks, and the body count showed no signs of slowing. All signs pointed to a disturbing connection within the music industry. The first two victims were singers, their vocal cords savagely ripped out. The third, a guitarist, had his hands severed. The most recent victim, a band manager, had his eyes gouged out in a grotesque display of violence.

As they walked briskly down the bustling Nashville street, Morgan voiced his frustration. "I can't wrap my head around why each murder was so different. It's like we're dealing with a completely new MO each time."

Reid's brilliant mind was already piecing together the puzzle. "Actually, there's a twisted logic to it," he explained, his words tumbling out rapidly. "Each mutilation corresponds to the victim's role in the industry. Singers silenced, a guitarist robbed of his ability to play, and a manager blinded, unable to oversee his clients. The unsub is targeting what makes each victim valuable in their profession."

"Do we know who we're meeting?" Reid inquired, his curiosity piqued.

Morgan nodded, consulting the notes from their technical analyst, Penelope Garcia. "Her stage name is Y/S/N, twenty-six years old. She's the lead singer of a band called The Springs. The band's manager reported an attempted abduction last night. She fits our victim profile perfectly: female, location in Nashville, related to a band. This is our first witness, Reid. She could be our key to catching this guy."

As they entered the recording studio, a frazzled assistant greeted them. "Hi, I'm Cary, the manager's assistant. Thank you so much for coming! Jason has been a nervous wreck. Please, follow me."

Morgan took the lead, his FBI credentials at the ready. "I'm Agent Morgan, and this is Dr. Reid. We need to speak with Y/S/N as soon as possible."

Cary nodded, guiding them towards a red door. With each step, the muffled sound of music grew louder, and a hauntingly beautiful voice became clearer.

"The band is actually recording their latest song right now," Cary explained in a hushed tone. "You'll need to be quiet, but the manager will brief you further."

As they approached the studio, the lyrics washed over them:

Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me I know I could've loved you, but you would not let me

A chill ran up Reid's spine. Something about that voice tugged at his memory, but before he could place it, he collided with Morgan's back.

A man stood before them, his face etched with worry. "Thank you for coming. I'm Jason, the band's manager. I wanted to take her straight to the police station, but she insisted on—" His eyes widened in recognition. "Spencer?"

Reid froze, suddenly face-to-face with a ghost from his past. "Uh, hi?" he managed, his usual social awkwardness winning again. How does one greet their ex-girlfriend's best friend after years of silence?

Morgan, sensing the tension, stepped between them. "I'm Agent Morgan, and this is Dr. Reid. We're here to speak with Y/S/N."

Jason's eyes darted between the two agents, his expression hardening. "Actually, I'd prefer if he wasn't here," he said, gesturing to Reid. "No offense, but I don't think it's wise for either of you to cross paths again."

Morgan, though confused by the unexpected connection, maintained his professional demeanor. "With all due respect, Dr. Reid and I work as a team. We both need to speak with Y/S/N to conduct a thorough investigation."

As the two men argued, Reid's gaze drifted to the recording booth. Through the glass, he caught sight of the band, and his breath caught in his throat. There, at the microphone, stood a face he thought he'd never see again—a face that to this day still haunts his most amazing dreams. 

I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you Give me just a chance

The lyrics pierced through Spencer Reid's carefully constructed walls, flooding his mind with memories he'd long tried to suppress. He was transported back to a time when life held more than just case files and criminal profiles—a time when he had someone to come home to, when he felt truly free rather than trapped within the labyrinth of his own brilliant mind. A time when he and Y/N L/N couldn't imagine a life without each other.

You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you

Despite his best efforts, Spencer's heart threatened to burst from his chest, yearning to reunite with its other half. For that was what Y/N had been—his perfect complement. They had met when she was seventeen and he was nineteen, initially friends until, two years later, they could no longer deny the intensity of their feelings.

Their love had been a force of nature—intense, pure, raw, and undeniably real. Until life's cruel realities came knocking at their door.

Y/N was a free spirit, driven by her passion for music. She'd twirl until dizzy, her long hair a wild tangle, singing until her voice grew hoarse. Music moved her in a way nothing else could.

Meanwhile, Spencer was on the cusp of graduating from the FBI Academy, with whispers of a fast-track position in the prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Two paths diverging, leading to an impossible choice.

He did what he thought he had to do, breaking things off for both their sakes. He had run the probabilities, analyzed every scenario, and a happy outcome seemed frustratingly out of reach. They wanted different things, or so he had convinced himself.

That fateful night was seared into his memory. Y/N was about to leave for New York to meet with a record label—an opportunity that Jason, her best friend and now manager, had excitedly relayed during their date. Spencer saw the yearning in her eyes, the spark of a dream about to be realized. And so, he made the agonizing decision to end things.

Her tears, her desperate pleas, her hands clutching at him as he walked away—it all haunted him still.

Was I just a fool?

I'll follow you down 'till the sound of my voice will haunt you

Spencer watched, transfixed, as Y/N sang in the recording booth. She swayed to the rhythm, smiling at her bandmates, lost in the music. Everything about her still captivated him. Their relationship had been a bittersweet dream he never wanted to wake from.

Give me just a chance

You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved you

He stood rooted to the spot, oblivious to Derek's hand on his shoulder or the sudden silence as the band stopped playing. Then, Y/N turned towards the glass, and their eyes met for the first time in years. The world seemed to stop spinning.

Her gaze flicked to Jason, her expression morphing into a glare as she mouthed, "What the fuck?" The spell broken, she grabbed her bag and bolted through the back door.

Everyone sprang into action. Jason was the first to follow, with Derek close behind. Spencer remained frozen until his partner turned him around.

"Look, I don't know what history you have here," Derek said, his voice laced with concern and confusion, "but we have a job to do. If you can't handle this, go wait in the car. If you can, let's move." He pressed the car keys into Spencer's hand before chasing after Jason.

Against his better judgment, Spencer followed. A selfish part of him needed to be near her, even if it meant causing more chaos.

As he approached, he heard Y/N's voice, sharp with anger and pain. "I don't give a fuck if he's the president of the goddamn country. I'm not speaking to him. So you can either throw them out or let me leave."

Spencer rounded the corner to see Y/N already in her car, engine running, poised to flee.

"Look, Miss," Derek began, his voice firm but empathetic, "we can't let you go. You're the only survivor of this serial killer. If you don't talk to us, more people will die. Is that something you can live with?"

Jason, his arm still through the car window, pleaded with his client. "Come on, Y/N. You and I both know they're here to help. Let's get this over with, and then we can get you out of state within hours. This is for your safety and the safety of others."

Y/N's gaze flickered between her manager, the new agent, and Spencer, who was approaching hesitantly. With a heavy sigh and her heart in her throat, she turned off the ignition and moved to open the door, forcing Jason to step back.

"Get me a whiskey and a glass of milk," she demanded, grabbing her purse and striding back into the building without a glance at the agents.

Jason turned to Derek, his expression grave. "I strongly advise against having him there," he said, nodding towards Spencer. "As you can see, it won't end well if he's present."

Derek, still loyal to his partner, bristled at the suggestion. "And I advise you not to tell an FBI agent how to do his job. We've got it from here." He turned to Spencer, concern evident in his eyes. "Is he right? Should I listen to him?"

"No. I'm fine," Spencer insisted, though his tense posture suggested otherwise.

"And what about her?" Derek pressed, before noticing Carly, the assistant, anxiously tapping her foot nearby.

"She's in room 24, waiting for you," Carly informed them, pointing towards a door. "Um... good luck!"

As they entered the room, they found Y/N and Jason in the midst of a heated discussion.

"Everything alright?" Derek intervened, causing Y/N to roll her eyes dramatically.

"Yup, everything's perfect!" Jason's forced cheerfulness was palpable. "You guys can have a seat. I'll be right outside." He looked at Y/N sternly. "Be good. And tell them everything, please."

"Yes, Dad," Y/N replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she took a sip of whiskey. Once Jason left, she glanced between Derek and Spencer. "Well, are you going to sit down, or are we having a stand-up interview?"

Derek motioned for Spencer to sit beside him, both agents studying the woman before them. Y/N held a cigarette in one hand and whiskey in the other, while a glass of milk sat on the side table—an odd combination that spoke volumes about her state of mind.

"I'm Agent Morgan, and I believe you know Dr. Reid," Derek began cautiously. "We just have a few questions about what happened to you yesterday."

Y/N took a long drag from her cigarette, exhaling slowly before tapping it on the ashtray. "And what exactly do you want to know, Agent?"

Spencer cleared his throat, drawing her attention. "Jason mentioned you survived a failed abduction. Can you walk us through what happened?"

Y/N tilted her head, her gaze fixed on Spencer with an intensity that made him shift uncomfortably. "We finished recording one of our songs yesterday, and the band wanted to go out for drinks. I was still hungover from the night before, so I decided to sit that one out." She took a gulp of whiskey, chasing it with milk in a bizarre ritual. "I stayed in the studio for a few hours, just writing. Around three a.m., I decided to head back to my hotel. I'd parked two blocks away, and as I approached, I noticed someone loitering near the parking lot entrance."

"Did you engage with him?" Derek interjected, earning an eye roll from Y/N.

"I'm not fucking stupid," she snapped. "I walked past as quickly as possible. He tried to talk to me, but I ignored him. Guess he didn't appreciate that, because the next thing I knew, he was behind me, trying to force a plastic bag over my head."

The room fell silent as the gravity of her words sank in. Spencer leaned forward, his analytical mind already piecing together the details. "Can you describe the attacker? Any distinguishing features, voice, or mannerisms?"

Y/N's eyes locked with Spencer's, a flicker of their shared past evident in her gaze before she quickly looked away. "He was tall, probably six feet or so. Muscular build. I didn't get a good look at his face, but his voice..." She paused, taking another drag of her cigarette. "His voice was deep, with a slight Southern drawl. Not local, though. Maybe Texas or Oklahoma."

Derek nodded, jotting down notes. "How did you manage to escape?"

They could see Y/N physically reliving the traumatic experience, her leg bouncing with increasing anxiety. The calm facade she had maintained began to crack under the weight of her memories.

"Hey, it's okay," Derek said softly, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Take your time."

For a moment, Y/N seemed to relax, but just as quickly, her emotional walls snapped back into place. She crushed out her cigarette and downed the rest of her whiskey in one swift motion.

"I'd heard about the murders before," she began, her voice steadier than her trembling hands. "Even before that, I always carried a pocket knife and pepper spray. Call it paranoia or just good sense in this industry." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "I managed to scratch his left arm before kicking him. When he loosened his grip, I turned and pepper-sprayed him. Then I just... ran. Got to my car and drove straight hotel. That's when I called Jason."

Derek leaned forward, his brow furrowed. "And you didn't think to call the police?"

Y/N's eyes flashed with anger. "I wanted to forget about it," she snapped. "I was planning to leave anyway. Sometimes denial feels safer than facing reality."

"Yet you still came in to record a song right after that?" Spencer's quiet question drew her attention, earning him a look that was equal parts resentment and something harder to define.

"I have a job," Y/N replied, her tone clipped as she turned back to Derek. "We have an album coming out soon, and we needed to finish recording. We love working in Nashville, so yes, I wanted to get it over with and then leave. Music... it's always been my escape."

Spencer cleared his throat, treading carefully. "Can you describe anything else about him? Any details you remember?"

Y/N's gaze softened almost imperceptibly as she looked at Spencer. "I think he was wearing a blue sweater, but I'm not certain." She paused, her brow furrowing in concentration. "What I do remember clearly is his smell. It was... odd. Like scented candles, the kind you'd find at Bath & Body Works. It was strangely out of place, but unmistakable."

Derek nodded, jotting down notes. "Alright, thank you for your time, Y/N. Here's our contact information if you remember anything else or need assistance." He stood, extending his hand, which Y/N shook briefly. As he walked to the door, he noticed Spencer hadn't moved. "Spencer?"

Spencer glanced between Derek and Y/N, who was now staring at him intently. "Give me a second," he said quietly. "I'll meet you at the car."

Derek hesitated, giving Spencer a questioning look. The younger agent's eyes pleaded for understanding, for a moment alone with the woman who had once meant everything to him. With a slight nod, Derek acquiesced and left the room.

As the door closed, the air grew thick with unspoken words and years of regret. Spencer and Y/N sat in tense silence, neither quite ready to bridge the chasm between them.

Finally, Spencer spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "Y/N, I... I'm sorry. For everything. I know it doesn't change anything, but I need you to know that."

Y/N's carefully constructed mask slipped, revealing a glimpse of the pain she'd been carrying for years. "Why now, Spencer? After all this time?"

"Because I never stopped caring," he admitted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "And seeing you in danger..." He couldn't even finish that sentence. "Please, promise me you'll be careful. 

Y/N studied him for a long moment, conflict evident in her eyes so she does what she does best. Ignore it.  "Congratulations are in order, Mr. FBI," Y/N said sardonically, reaching for another cigarette. The acrid smell of tobacco filled the air, a scent that brought back a flood of memories for Spencer.

"Smoking causes about 90% of all lung cancer deaths," he recited, unable to stop himself. "More women die from lung cancer each year than from breast cancer." It was an old argument, one they'd had countless times before.

Y/N took a long, deliberate drag, exhaling slowly as if to challenge his statistics. "We're all meant to die one day, Spence," she said, her voice tinged with a familiar fatalism. "I always told you that."

Indeed, she had. It was her motto, her way of justifying living life to the fullest, consequences be damned.

"I thought you quit," Spencer said softly, his eyes fixed on the glowing ember of her cigarette. "When did you start again?"

"A few months after my twentieth birthday," she admitted, her gaze dropping to the floor. "The record label signed us, and suddenly we went from doing a few covers a week to churning out originals every month. Needed a stress reliever."

Spencer studied her, noting the way she avoided his eyes. There was more to the story, he was certain. "Y/N/N," he said gently, using the old nickname that once came so easily to his lips, "are you okay?"

Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing. "Why would you assume I'm not?"

"Well," Spencer began, slipping into his analytical mode, "you drank that whiskey rather quickly. Your eyes are bloodshot, and you're flushed—signs of prolonged alcohol consumption. The fact that you're willing to record and drive in this state suggests it's become a habit. And then there's the cigarette addiction. So, naturally, I'm concerned about your well-being."

Silence fell between them, heavy with unspoken words and years of separation. Y/N broke first, standing abruptly and grabbing her purse. "I've told you what you needed to know," she said, her voice brittle. "I have to leave. Hopefully, Jason's already arranged my flight out of here."

As she turned to go, Spencer's hand shot out, catching her wrist. The contact sent a jolt through both of them—a spark of electricity, familiar yet now terrifyingly foreign.

Y/N's eyes traveled from his hand to his face. "Let go, Spencer," she said, her voice low and dangerous.

He couldn't. Not yet. Not when he'd finally found her again, when there was so much to explain, so much unfinished between them. But he also knew that Derek would come bursting through the door at any moment.

With reluctance, he released her wrist and pulled out a post-it note and pen from his bag. Hastily scribbling his number, he held it out to her. "Take it. Please. If you need anything—and I mean anything—call me, okay?"

Skepticism clouded Y/N's features. Did he really expect her to take his number, to even consider calling him after everything?

Seeing her hesitation, Spencer pressed on. "Look, Y/N, I know you have every reason not to trust me, to want me out of your life. But please, give me a chance to prove that I'll be there for you. We'll catch the guy who attacked you, and if you need help with anything else, anything at all, come to me. Please."

Y/N stared into his pleading eyes. A part of her recognized his sincerity, but the wounded 20-year-old inside her still ached from old betrayals.

With a resigned eye roll, she snatched the note from his hand and left without a word, leaving Spencer rooted to the spot.

As she passed a trash can in the hallway, Y/N paused, the note burning a hole in her hand. For a moment, she hovered on the brink of tossing it away. But something—sentiment, curiosity, or perhaps a stubborn refusal to let go—made her slip it into the back pocket of her jeans instead.

You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you

The lyrics of her song echoed in Spencer's mind as he watched her go. And in that moment, he realized with startling clarity that he didn't want to get away. Not anymore. Not ever again.

As Y/N disappeared from view, Spencer was left alone with the lingering scent of her perfume and cigarette smoke, and the weight of years of regret. He knew that solving this case was now about more than just catching a killer—it was about second chances, redemption, and the possibility of healing old wounds.

With a deep breath, he steeled himself to face Derek and the investigation ahead, all while knowing that the most challenging case of his life might just be winning back the trust of the woman he'd never stopped loving.

Author's Note: I absolutely love Silver Springs. I belt it out all the time lol. I also was obsessed with Daisy Jones & The Six when it came out. Used to read a lot of those fanfics.

Also let me know if y'all want a part 2.

Thank for reading!

[wrangleandtame]

Clouds Don't Perish (They Dissipate)

Think you could get off this road?” Kate hollered, “feel like I’m in a paint shaker.”

Tyler glanced at her with that mischievous smile, the one her mom had deemed his “shit-eating grin.”

“Short cut!” he yelled back.

“I can see the map, you idiot, this is twice as long!”

He shrugged, “I got you alone in this truck for the first time in a week. I’m goin’ the long way ‘round.”

“Your plan is to fuck me in some random field, isn’t it?”

He snorted, “sure as hell is now!”

He released his full-throated laugh, revealing all of his perfect teeth, crow's feet splaying out from his sunglasses. She loved that laugh; it should be labeled a contagion. The man could suss out the fun in nearly any situation, and his exuberance nearly always stirred Kate from her occasional tendency towards re-erecting emotional barriers. 

This was one of THOSE moments wherein Kate perceived her own contentment: bouncing around the cab of his truck, Tyler singing (not well) along to Lydia Loveless blasting, windows down, kicking up a trail of rocks and dust behind them. 

Backward cap, button-up green flannel, and the now ever-present perfectly manicured two-day scruff (possibly motivated by Kate mentioning the pleasing sensation of his unshaven face between her thighs) were absolutely doing it for her. He caught her gazing and leered back suggestively, waggling his eyebrows over the top of his sunglasses. She dissolved into laughter. 

She felt her phone vibrate so she lengthened her torso and yanked it free of her side pocket.  The lit screen displayed, “Mom.”

  “I was just thinking about you,” she said by way of a hello.

Tyler’s head whipped back to her in interest, tipping his head low enough for his eyes to be seen over his sunglasses. He raised his eyebrows in question.

Kate mouthed “mom,” and the easy smile returned to his face. He twisted the dial, lowering the volume of the music and raised the windows with a flick of his finger.

“Hi Cathy!” he called.

“And where are you guys at today?” Cathy questioned.

“Close actually. Like, uh, 20 miles north of Tulsa,” Kate peaked at the radar projections again, hoping for something more promising. “We’ll probably stay in that area today, unless things change.”

“Well, if things don’t change and you want to come home, you can invite your crew to save a few dollars and stay at the farm.”

“Did she say hi back?” Tyler nagged, and Kate scowled and waved him off. Her mother’s aloof demeanor brought out a rare obsequious quality in Tyler, and this usually amused Kate. At the moment, she just wanted him to shut up.

“That would be amazing.  I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

Tyler interrupted, “appreciate what?”

“Mom invited us all to stay at the house tonight.”

“Just made my day Cathy,” he yelled at the phone.

“It’ll be nice,” Cathy continued. “I’ll make a mess of barbecue.”

Kate’s mouth watered at the thought of real food, “that sounds so so good.”

“Call me later and let me know.”

“I will.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She hung up, stowed her phone in her pocket, and Tyler asked again, “did she say hi back?”

“Yeah, she says hi,” she lied, and then swung her head towards the backseat to tell Addy and Praveen about the barbecue food waiting for them. 

Later, even with hindsight and self-awareness intact, she would be astounded by her certainty that they had been an arm's length away, faces lit with excitement. Addy even pushed her glasses up with her wrist, just as she always had, her glasses ever-slipping and her hands ever-full.

Kate gasped and caught a peripheral of a smiling Jeb at the wheel. She threw herself against her passenger door and screwed her eyes shut, pressing the palms of her hands into her sockets.

“Kate?” Jeb said, concern lacing his voice. No, not Jeb. TYLER said, concern lacing HIS voice. Tyler Owens, she corrected her stupid brain. 

“You okay?”

She didn’t look up, keeping her palms planted firmly against her eyes. A sob escaped her mouth instead of the reasonable explanation she intended. Why did she sound like that?

“Whoa, whoa. Kate? Hang on.” She felt a hand on the top of her head, but she still didn’t move. If she didn’t move, she reasoned, perhaps this nightmare would conclude quickly.

She felt the truck swerve and stop, the rumbling of the engine cut out. What should have been silence overflowed with the sounds of hyperventilating and an approaching freight train. 

She felt sure her death was imminent. Her body shook uncontrollably, and her heartbeat pounded ferociously, attempting to break out from her chest. She had unconsciously pulled her knees up and had formed a tight ball with her body.

“What’s going on? Can you hear me?” Tyler sounded as if he was in a tunnel. Shit. Maybe an underpass.

She thought she might be able to speak, but gasps and sobs colonized the space where words should be.

“Can you try and look at me?”

Kate released the pressure on her eyeballs and attempted to tip her head up to see Tyler but her vision was completely blurred by tears. Was she crying?

Her teeth chattered, and Tyler placed a hand on her cheek, “I think you’re having an anxiety attack.”

“No,” she sobbed, “I don’t, I don’t have them anymore.”

Was that her voice? Kate doubted it. That didn’t sound like her. 

Blurry Tyler’s head nodded, “Let’s say we just try to take some deep breaths anyway.  It can’t hurt.”

She realized that the thunderous freight train was an oncoming tornado. People always describe the sound of a tornado as a train, but she wouldn’t have described it as such before now. 

For her, tornadoes sounded like monsters, growling and roaring. She looked out the windows, frantically searching the bright horizon. Where was it?

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Tyler cooed, “You’re okay.”  

It wasn’t okay. Nothing was fucking okay. 

HER tornado was coming for them, and she couldn’t even see it! She could hear the change of the roar to the cacophony of whooshing and clanging when it’s devoured Praveen and clamoring for Addy. The bellowing while yanking Jeb from atop her. The deafening barrage when it’s aiming to suck Kate out from an underpass. Fucking stop. Stop. STOP!

“Kate?” Tyler tried again. 

“I can’t. Can’t make it stop,” she cried, her thoughts jumbling, her mind jumping time. Past, present, past, present.

She suddenly launched herself forward, peering into the back seat to see if they were still there.  They weren’t, of course, because they were dead. They wouldn’t be eating barbecue today. Not any day. They were dead. She knew this. She’d known this for a long time.

She planted herself back in her seat, and looked into Tyler’s face, clenching with concern. Maybe worse than concern. Shit, he thought she was crazy. He had a point. Sane people don’t see ghosts.  Sane people don’t hear invisible tornadoes. 

She clamped her hands over her ears, trying to dampen the bellowing and keening, “Stop. I just…please stop.”

Tyler carefully pulled her hands from her ears, “Kate, look in my eyes. Can you see me?”

She focused on his vivid seaglass-green eyes. Where did his sunglasses go? She nodded and stammered, “Yes. I. Yes.”

“Okay, good. You’re doing good. Now listen to me. Stop trying to make it stop.”

Stop trying to make it stop. What the fuck was he talking about?

“Just focus on me if you can. Be here with me.” He kept her trembling hands in his, but she pulled them back from his grasp. She quickly checked the backseat again. Empty.

“Keep your eyes on me.” 

She refocused upon his face, nodding. 

“Atta girl, okay, we’re going to breathe together now.”

  His movements seemed exaggerated, his chest and mouth moving slowly, “okay, breathing in two three four, and out two three four, breathing in two three four.” 

She attempted to mimic him but couldn’t figure out the actual mechanics of breathing, and this terrified her even more than riding shotgun with her dead friends. 

“Can’t,” she shook harder, her teeth clacking together. How do you breathe!? How?

“That’s okay, that’s okay. I’m going to breathe and you just listen. You’re doing fine.”

“Not fine,” she stammered. 

“You will be. Y’hear me? This won’t last much longer. It’ll be over soon. You’re gonna be okay.”

She shook her head; nothing was okay.

“C’mon Kate, let’s get some air. It’ll do you good.”

“No!” she grabbed his forearm, frantically looking outside. Didn’t he know how much danger he was in? A new wave of fear rippled through her body.

“You’re safe. I promise,” the sincerity in his voice almost made her believe him. “Let’s look at some clouds. You’re not in any danger. It’s going to be okay Kate. Trust me.” 

He placed his rough warm hand over hers, and she looked at his arm where she clutched him, knuckles white, fingernails plugged into his skin. She felt paralyzed. She couldn’t even rotate her eyes off the soft hairs on his tawny arm. 

“I’ll be with you, and we’ll just look at some clouds. Just you and me. Just Tyler and Kate, okay?”

She had no memory of agreeing, of releasing his arm, or of him exiting the truck and moving to her door. She blinked, and he leaned in the open passenger-side door, expectantly waiting for her. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do or say. Did he ask her a question? 

His face was achingly soft, eyes balmy with affection. He slipped his arm around her back and one under her knees, “this okay?”

She nodded, and he scooped her into his arms, lifting her from the truck cab and using his booted foot to close the creaking metal truck door.

He crossed the road and ambled into a low-growing field of green.  He carried her, but she was the one panting in uneven sporadic bursts, clutching handfuls of his soft flannel shirt.

He murmured softly to her as he walked through the field, “it’s alright. You’re alright Kate. I’m right here. Just going to look at some clouds. Just breathe. You’re alright.”

She tucked her head against his chin, desperately attempting to anchor time to his voice.

“This looks like a good spot. We’re going to sit for a spell and see if we can find some clouds, okay?”

“K,” she mumbled, and she felt him nuzzle her forehead with his scratchy chin.

“Smell that?” He lowered them to the earth with a soft grunt, her body draped across his lap.

“Do you smell the clovers, Kate? They’re blooming. Love these. White ones smell better than the crimson ones.”

She could smell them. The growing ground heat released the morning petrichor from last night’s rain - wet and sweet with a light floral perfume. 

“Smells nice,” she mumbled, and he gave her a praiseful squeeze in response.

“Bumblebees are louder than the damn birds. You hear em?”

He was purposefully engaging her senses, she realized. How did he know what to do?  Why couldn’t she remember? She was the one who had over forty of the damn things. New York rules: if at work, run to the restroom, hide in the stall, and endlessly flush the toilet to cover sounds of crying and panting.  Fucking useless skills in this situation.

He considered the sky for a moment and then smiled down at her face, “look up Kate.”

She tilted her head back, neck cradled in the crook of his arm, and saw the sky bluer than it had a right to be. To the east, she spotted a big bouncy cumulonimbus tower with a bulbous bottom layer. 

“What are you seeing?”

“Mammatus,” she whispered.

He chuckled happily, “yep. What else?”

She watched them move for a moment, a gorgeous slow roll. Her eyes caught another edge of the sky, and she lifted her heavy arm, which felt weirdly unattached. She wiggled her fingers. They did what she told them, so they must be hers. Raising her thumb to the sky, she measured a cloud.

“What time is it?” She croaked, throat dry, her voice slightly foreign to her.

He raised his wrist, “let’s see, it’s uh nine fifteen am.”

“Altocumulus.”

“Damn straight, altocumulus. Beautiful, huh?”

“Beautiful,” she agreed. She knew they were beautiful, but she didn’t actually feel the beauty.

He shifted her off of his lap, arm still curved under her neck and tentatively lowered them both to the soft bed of green clovers, “better vantage.” 

She barely noticed, following the white clouds with her eyes like a meditation.

After a few moments, he pointed at the sky, “dragon.”

She followed his finger and spotted the dragon in the clouds, “I see it.”

She pointed next to it, closing one eye to better focus her vision, “banana.”

“Yup.”

The dragon’s torso elongated and detached, and its head resembled a dot to a dot from her childhood activity books.

Tyler pointed at the dissipating dragon head, “oatmeal.”

“Cheating.”

“It’s not cheating. It’s oatmeal. Oh, oh, wait, no, now it’s grits.”

She smiled - the impulse natural, the action dull and stiff.  She only heard birds tweeting, Tyler’s soft breathing, and an occasional bee buzzing by. 

This was when she realized that she wasn’t panting, crying or hallucinating. She felt slowed like moving through water, and a debilitating mix of shame, embarrassment, and guilt settled within her chest.

“We should go,” she frowned and tried to sit up, seized by dizziness.

“Should we?” Tyler sat up and placed his hand on the middle of her back. She pulled away with none of the subtlety she intended. 

“We were supposed to meet up at that QT off seventy-five ages ago Tyler.”  Look at Kate, stringing a full coherent sentence together.

“I called Boone. Remember? Told everyone to meet us at your mom’s.”

When did that happen? Tyler’s face telegraphed that she should easily recall this memory, and she hadn’t even a hazy version floating around in her mind. Nothing.

“Oh,” she said dumbly.  “Sorry.”

“For what?” He asked, cupping her elbow with his hand. 

“Don’t,” she pulled her arm from him.

“Okay,” he scooched himself back a bit with a kindness she interpreted as pity. 

“Sorry,” she snapped, knowing she sounded irrationally angry, but completely unable to control her tone.

“S’okay Kate,” he folded his elbows over his knees and picked a white clover flower, spinning it between his index and thumb. 

She lay flat on her back so she could again stare at the sky and not his sweet ridiculously understanding expression.

“It’s not okay. I’m sorry I freaked out.”

“Not your fault.”

“It really is,” she glanced at him.

He cocked his head, “a panic attack isn’t your fault.”

“Maybe not that.”

He tentatively lowered himself alongside her, giving her more space than she now actually wanted. A moment ago she felt too ashamed to have his hands on her, and now she wanted to climb inside him and disappear.  Make up your mind, Kate.

After a bit of silence, he asked, “your friends? Is that what you think is your fault.”

“That was my fault,” she scoffed. “It’s pretty well universally agreed that they died as a consequence of my reckless actions.”

“Who the fuck would agree with that?” His outraged tone astonished her. She found it unnatural to see the fire in his eyes presenting as fury instead of desire. “Someone blame you for what happened? Who?”

Instinctually, she tempered his anger with vague assurances, “it doesn’t matter. It’s stupid. My point was that I don’t need you to tell me that it wasn’t my fault. Can’t change it anyway.” 

He sighed audibly, “I know you’re freakishly good at finding tornadoes, honey, but you don’t got dominion over ‘em. Got some omnipotent power I’m unaware of?”

They quieted, and she tried to not mentally replay her panic attack in a feeble attempt to avoid a self-conscious rut.

“It’s just so beyond fucking humiliating.”

Surprise flashed in his expression, “but, Kate, it’s just me.”

She couldn’t look at his face, so she looked at the sky again, “I don’t want you to see me like that.”

“Beautiful and brave?”

“I’m not sure I’m either of those things at the moment.”

“This is grief and trauma and your body reacting to that.”

“It’s been almost six years!”

“Not a set time for this shit, Kate. So just try to be gentle with yourself, will ya?”

She reached for his hand, grasping at his rough fingertips.

“Hasn’t happened in so long. Just surprised me.

“Do you know what happened?”

“I, um, I saw them. In the truck.”

“Saw who?”

She blinked and tried to say their names.

Tyler filled in the blanks like he majored in it, “oh, Addy and Praveen?”

She nodded.

“Jeb too?” 

Their names sounded wrong in his mouth, but she drew comfort from his familiarity with what mattered to her.  They mattered.

“Mmhm.”

“I figured.”

“You figured?”

“Yeah.”

She almost laughed, incredulous, “you FIGURED that I hallucinated my very dead friends sitting in the backseat of your truck?”

He smirked, “Something along those lines. My brother, he had panic attacks. PTSD from Afganistan.”

“I didn’t know that; you never talk about him.”

“We don’t see each other much; he lives in Idaho. I was only ten when he came back. Brain injury from an IED. I sat with him a lot during his panic attacks.”

She mentally conjured an image of child-Tyler, “that’s an awful lot for a ten-year-old.”

He winked, “well, I was an exceptional kid.”

“I bet you were,” she smiled genuinely, her face now just a foot from his.

“Once we figured out most of his triggers, that helped loads.”

“I think it was the barbecue.”

“What?

“Barbecue.  My mom, when she called, she offered for the team to stay over and said she’d make barbecue, and she said the same thing the day they died,” her speech gradually took on a frenetic pace, “and just like I was on automatic, I started to tell them, Praveen and Addy, you know, and they were there, and then it was happening all over again, and you know the shittiest thing? It’s that really here I am, and they’re not. And did I learn anything, no, I’m just doing it all over again really, just in a truck with you, taking people I care about to their deaths and am I doing the same thing, did I learn a fucking thing? No, no, I just keep doing what I want to do because I’m so goddamned selfish and -“ 

Her chin started to quiver, and she became breathless again when Tyler interrupted, “you’re the least selfish person I know.”

He brushed her hair back from her face, “also the most logical, so listen up: the team was here doin’ our thing before you met us. We’d be here if we’d NEVER met you. But Kate, with you, we just do more good, get more accomplished and generally have more fun. All because YOU are with us.”

Her eyes began leaking again, and she whispered, “want you to be okay.”

“Me? I’m here, next to you, on this gorgeous day. Kate, I’m better than okay.”

  With the shuddering breaths of a child all cried out, “I’m so fucking scared. I just. I don’t want. I don’t want you to die.”

She couldn’t fathom why she would say this out loud, when she barely recognized the truth herself. She felt pathetic and vulnerable, a combination she attempted to avoid at all times.

  “Oh Kate, darlin’ I’m not going anyplace.” He smiled his sweet little smile, soft wet eyes pleading with her, “thought I told you to be gentle to yourself.” 

She leaned her face into his hand, and inched closer to his chest. Tyler wrapped his arms around her pulling her flush against him.  She buried her head in his chest and wept, grateful he didn’t shush her. They let the tears and the little hiccups fade in their own time, his hand tenderly holding her head against him.  Her body relaxed into him, and she didn’t feel out of control. Just absolutely fucking heartbroken and so incredibly exhausted. 

She didn’t remember falling asleep; all she knew was awaking sweaty and confused within Tyler’s embrace.  

“I fell asleep.”

His voice was deep and rumbly, “sure did.”

She rolled onto her back, studying the grey sky, the sun’s blanketed halo in a confusing position.

“Jesus, what time is it?”

“One O’clock.”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s fine Kate.” 

“It’s fine?”

She peered up at his ridiculously handsome face, “where’s the team?”

“Remember, they’re at your moms?  I texted them to meet us there.”

“Are they angry? That we missed an entire day?”

“No one expressed anything other than being thrilled to go to your mom’s house.  Everything fizzled out anyway.”

“Do they know? That I…?”

“Hm? Oh, no. That’s your call to make.”

She kissed his jaw and he peered down at her, “okay?”

She answered him by climbing onto his lap, straddling him. He sat up, clutching her, thumbs rolling around her hipbones.

“Feelin’ better, honey?” 

“I don’t know,” she responded honestly. “I don’t want to think about it right now. Just so tired.”

She brushed her thumbs along the grey hairs at his temples and kissed him slowly, stilling her mind to focus only on his soft salty mouth.

He ended the kiss after a moment and pulled his face back, examining her expression.

“What?”

“Just catching up,” he whispered.

“What does that mean? You don’t want to -“

“I want you now and always,” he pulled her hips tightly into his hard-on to punctuate his point. “Just checking in first.”

He captured her mouth with his, asserting his desire, and they made love in that clover field, just as Kate had predicted at the beginning of this unexpectedly fraught day.

A comfort-cloaked drive to her mom’s house further eased any remaining anxiety. Tyler played Songs: Ohia, Magnolia Electric Co, (for her, she knew) the windows down and warm air whipping her hair around as they distanced themselves from the morning’s pain.

When they approached the signs for her hometown, she turned down the music, “Tyler?” 

Her voice hitched, and she swallowed down tears that threatened a comeback.

“Yeah?”

She summoned all her sincerity, “thank you.”

“Anytime, Sapulpa,” he smiled, “You know that, right? Anytime. Anyplace. Whatever you need. Whenever. I’m all yours.”

She ran her hand lovingly down his arm, shoulder to wrist, “ditto.”

When they pulled up to a stop in the driveway, the sun rested low in the sky.  Besides daybreak, this was Kate’s favorite time of day, even as a child. All the work usually done, the day’s heat assuaged, dog-day cicadas quieted, and the sticky air would a call for iced sweet tea in jelly jars and unchallenging conversations on a creaky porch. 

Tyler and Kate walked together through the cool grass. As they approached the picnic table flush with their friends, everyone turned towards them like flowerheads to the sun.

“What kept ya?” Boone yelled as they got closer.

Tyler began to answer, but Kate cut him off neatly, “I had some trauma hallucinations, an enormous panic attack, passed out for hours and then seduced Tyler in a clover field.”

Tyler held up the grocery bag in his hand, “and we brought chips.”

She only let the awkward silence, shocked stares and open mouths sit for half a minute, “so, is there any of my mom’s potato salad left?”

Lily recovered quickly, “yeah, totally, Kate hand me one of those plates, and I’ll get you some.”

Kate passed her a plate, and Lily smiled as she scooped a generous glob, “sorry bout your panic attack. I got them for awhile back in the day. They suck. Hard.”

“They do. Thanks Lily,” Kate nodded grateful for the generous normalization Lily offered.

Dexter, adept at all types of navigating, added, “It's a good thing you got here when you did. I was going back in for another helping. Your mom could tempt angels with this potato salad.”

“Right?” Kate laughed, “where is she, anyway?”

“I think she was getting watermelon,” Dani said and jumped up from the table, “I’ll go help her. I gotta pee anyway.”

She quickly squeezed Kate’s arm affectionately as she passed and raised her eyebrows at Tyler when she sauntered passed.

“So tell me, what did this clover field seduction include?” Boone queried.

“It includes you shutting the fuck up,” Tyler’s voice was playful, but he shot Boone a disapproving look, as he pulled a plate from the stack and began piling on ribs, brisket and chicken drumsticks.

Boone raised his hands in surrender, “that’s fine, that’s fine. I’ve got an imagination.”

Lily rolled her eyes, “don’t be gross, Boone.”

“What?” he laughed, and with every passing moment, their usual ease of comradery returned. 

While she was conscious that evening, Tyler positioned his hand either upon her shoulder or entwined in her fingers, tethering her to the moments in front of her. At night, he settled in her bed, ready to pull her back should she start to slip into the past. 

He was generous, loving, kind, and patient. So, of course, she didn’t believe it could possibly last. She consciously tried not to stew in the terror of its inevitable end (their relationship, not his life, she isn’t thinking about that.) 

Instead, she attempted to soak in the (likely evanescent) Tyler minutiae: memorizing his specific expressions and predictable reactions, the dust and detergent smell of his soft flannels, his thin pink lips, his stiff jeans that invited lascivious thoughts, and that devastatingly infectious, nearly ever-present smile. 

**AUTHORS NOTES

I saw Twisters a couple weeks ago and came home and wrote this and three other stories. Then I went on AO3 and read EVERYTHING, and saw that others had written goddamned BRILLIANT pieces on the same subject. Discouraged about my own writing quality, I wasn’t going to post it. Since then, I’ve read nearly everything else posted in this fandom and realized that maybe creating and sharing imperfection is part of our fanfic social contract. This is writing potluck. As in, consume < create. In that spirit, here was one of my little fics. Hope it brought you a few minutes of the joy so many others bring me in their writings. 

[billydunneapologist]

girlhood is starting and ending the day reading fanfics ab ur fictional crushes. i swear it’s apart of my routine now.

[letmesleep8]

the fucking punchline // elliexreader

CHAPTER 1: White Carnations

Ao3

content warnings/tags: drug usage (weed), implied daddy issues

notes: hello lesbians! this is my second ever fanfiction here on tumblr, quick reminder: i didn't drop the other one. this is kinda slowburn and also kinda daisy jones & the six inspired, so if you like that book you might like this too. i'll always link up the songs I used in the story at the end of the chapter. hope you enjoy. <3

taglist: @lorelaihehe @lonelyfooryouonly

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

September 09th, 2023 

Time shakes, found you at the water 

At first you were a problem my father, now I love you like a father a brother

Earthquakes shake the dust behind you

This world at times will blind you

Still I know I’ll see you there

The calloused, ink stained hands scribbled on a sketchbook, next to a drawing of what seemed to be a wolf. On the same page, Ecology notes got lost between chord progressions and two-sentence long lyrics. Near the margin, a quick but precise drawing of Dina’s eyes. 

Ellie was sitting in the corner of her Organic Chemistry lecture at Jackson’s Community College, hiding her freckled body under a gray sweatshirt and her sleepy eyes behind overgrown face-framing bangs. As the professor finally called the class off, she got up from her seat, walking to her visibly well loved truck, its blue paint holding scratches and slight dents, clearly faded from the sun

I sat on my window as I watched her old truck drive by, as loud as always. I was waiting for my nails to dry, afraid that the maroon polish would stick to everything if I didn’t have the  patience to let it take its sweet time. She got off her truck and stepped on her cigarette before  going through the front door. 

I had met Jesse a few weeks earlier, it was karaoke night at the bar. I managed to get a few drinks from the old creeps there and was already feeling a bit too “happy” when I stepped onto the improvised stage we had set up and gave that bikers’ bar the best drunk performance of “Hopelessly Devoted to You” they had ever seen. 

I have always loved to sing. Writing, playing  the  guitar, putting up concerts for my family in my living room. Music is my soul. But I’ve come from a reality where art wasn’t an option, being an artist would not pay my rent, nor would it show to my  parents that I wasn’t a complete disaster. So I worked as a waitress and saved up  to  the last cent of any tips I would get, only spending enough to pay my parents my contribution to what they spent so I  could go to cosmetology school

After I finished my fifteen minutes of fame, I went back to the cold reality and started cleaning up some tables. That was when Jesse came up to me, drunk and full of compliments to give. He had a girl beside him, Dina. He started rambling about his band and how they’re so good that they even do weddings, and then he asked me if I had ever auditioned for a singing  gig  at all. I was full of confidence and whisky, so I gave him my number when he said they could  use another vocalist

The next morning I had basically forgotten about my new deal, and I figured he would have forgotten about it  too. But I was wrong. The boy did not forget about it, in fact, he kept calling me to schedule my “audition”. So I finally gave in. I grabbed my guitar case and started walking to the address he gave me. It was just down the street from my house, at  the Miller’s. I held the case on my shoulder and walked towards the open garage door. There were Dina, Jesse and the girl I had only seen from my window every now and then. 

– You actually came! – Jesse got up from his seat, walking his way to me. – Oh, you play the guitar  too? Damn, Williams, found someone else to do your work. – He joked and the girl gave him an annoyed look, sitting comfortably on the old chair inside the garage. I couldn’t help but observe how her thighs set apart from each other and her head was thrown back mindlessly. 

– So, are you gonna show me what you’re all about? You seem to have really impressed the other two. – She gestured for me to sit on a stool, her voice was, honestly, cold but not in an unfriendly way. She seemed nonchalant, but not distant. Her green eyes had the warmth her mouth seemed to lack and her face was strangely expressive, like someone who had spent their developing  years in front of the tv instead of talking to people, but it complemented her sharp voice just perfectly. 

– This is a song I wrote a few weeks ago. It’s not finished yet, but I think it’s fine. – I spoke as I tuned in the guitar while keeping my eyes mostly on the girl, who seemed to be paying close attention to me and, at the same time, seemed to disdain me. 

She analyzed my every move as I started singing. I could see some curiosity peeking through her eyes when I began performing the first verse. 

“She's asleep in the backseat

 Looking peaceful enough to me

 But she's wakin' up inside a dream

 Full of screeching tires and fire”

I played the chords and kept singing the words, trying to mask the knot on my throat. “Emily, I’m sorry, baby / You know how I get when I’m wrong” I tried to keep my voice from shaking;  not because of the lyrics, I haven’t talked to Emily since 8th grade and, honestly, I just think it’s a beautiful name. I wanted to cry because I felt anxious. Turns out it hurts more to overcome your fears when your blood is not 50% whisky.

It was as if I could listen to my  father screaming from a distance: “you are a waste of time!” Suddenly, it was like I could slowly feel my blood going through my veins all throughout my body, sliding like raindrops on a window. I was feeling overwhelmed, the song felt never ending and I was sure that I had gotten at least 30% of all the notes wrong. I didn’t realize how much I wanted this, how much I craved for a chance to showcase my songs, a chance to pretend that my dreams were possible. And in my head, it was all over, until I heard Ellie’s voice from across the room.

– Sounds good to me. – She shrugged her shoulders and raised her eyebrows. – If you two think she’s good then she’s good and she’s in. I’d be the odd one out anyway. Dina flashed me a warm smile and gave me a side hug.

– Welcome to the band! – She nudges my arm.

– Rehearsal every Sunday, Wednesday and Thursday from 3 to 5 pm. – Jesse smiled from the worn out couch he was lazily lying on. 

We decided to spend the rest of the afternoon getting to know each other better. Dina talked about some songs she would like to perform at their next weddings, Jesse laid back on the couch and played with the drum sticks. The band had some work of their own, but not many since Ellie was basically the only one who was more interested in writing than playing covers. 

– Hey – I was sitting on the floor and scrolling on my phone, Ellie scooted closer to me, brushing her jeans against my knee. – D’you write that song by yourself? The “Emily” one and shit? 

– It’s called “Emily, I’m sorry”. – I chuckled, nodding. – Yeah, I did. I actually write a lot of songs. Why?

She reached out for her sketchbook inside of her forest green backpack, I couldn’t help but notice how it matches her eyes almost too perfectly. She flipped the yellow pages  until she found a small verse of lyrics to show me. I wasn’t really used to showing unfinished lyrics to people but I grabbed the small handbook in my pocket.

Do you understand the things that you’ve been seeing?

Do you  understand the things that you’ve been dreaming?

Come a little closer, then you’ll see

– I woke up in the middle of the night last week and wrote this down on my phone. Do you think it could perhaps work with the melody you wrote? 

– Well, actually… – She scratched the back of her head and looked up. 

– You haven’t thought of a melody yet, have you? – I smirked.

– No, no, of course I have, I just… – She stuttered. – It just needs a bit of… refining.

– Refining, huh? – I chuckled.

Jesse told Dina he was bored and, with a smirk, they both decided it was time to go watch a movie at his house. I was ready  to take my things and leave too, but Ellie stopped me.

– Hey, wait! – She called for me. – Do you want to work on the song? I mean, I ain’t got no professional studio but we could make it work with what I  have. The others don’t really like to write and shit, I was thinking maybe we could give that one a try.

– Oh, sure. – I smiled softly. 

She closed the garage door, giving us some more privacy. Ellie reached for the laptop on a tools table, it was plugged into a reasonably nice mic, she must have saved up for ages to buy it. She also got an electric guitar out of the case and started to tune it. With my acoustic guitar, I started humming a few different generic melodies that came to my head, until Ellie liked one and decided to try to follow it with her guitar. We stayed there for a while.

– Do you like it that way? I don’t think it’s working out well enough. 

I scratched the back of my head, my eyes narrowed. I rubbed my hands over my face. 

– I don’t know, I'm just having trouble locking in, I guess. We could give up for now, if  you want. 

– I know something that could help, if you’re up for it. – She smirked slightly. Maybe I was overthinking it, but I could swear I saw her eyes wander to my mouth. – I  mean, if you’re even a smoker, of course. 

– Oh. – I fell into reality and felt stupid. – Oh yeah, sure, I- I mean, we could try. Cool.

She got up and gestured to me to follow, I put the guitar on the case and took it with us. We exited the garage through a small door that led to the kitchen. Her house was messy enough to be acknowledged as a college student’s but it was furnished like some kind of family had once lived in that space

She led me up the stairs, into her room. I shyly sat on the edge of her bed and she got some weed and some silk out of her bedside table. She started rolling it up and I watched as she licked it together in record time, I would be lying to say I wasn’t impressed. A simple lighter came out of her pocket and she took a long hit before passing it over to me. I brought both the blunt and her gaze up to my lips, taking a drag not as experienced as hers. It wasn’t  my  first time smoking but I was scared to bite more than I could chew, for some reason.

– So, are you from around town? Never seen you around. –  She was trying to break the ice. I got up from her bed and walked towards her window, she was quick to follow after me. 

– Right there. – I pointed to the other side of the street, about three or four houses over. She seemed surprised. 

– Really?! – She spoke, surprised. –  I thought that was where the annoying lady from the Neighborhood Association lived. The one that’s always telling people to speed down and shit.

– Yeah, that’s my mom. – I laughed as I watched her cheeks  grow a bright red, her eyes trying to look anywhere but mine. – It’s okay, she really is annoying. She does that to me too and I’m her own daughter. – I sat on her windowsill, taking another drag of the joint. She joined me, sitting by my side. 

– I mean, she never complained about the noise during the band’s practice sessions. Gotta give her that, though. 

I laughed and she took the weed back. 

– She can be a bit mean but she is a music lover, after all. Maybe you’ve found her soft spot with that one. 

– Aw shit, gonna have to give her tickets to our next underground-bar concert. 

We both laughed at the idea of my mom at one of our shows. 

– Gonna make sure to tell her to look out for it. – That was when I realized I hadn’t asked a really important question. – What’s the band’s name anyway?

– White Carnations. – Ellie took another hit, blowing the smoke outside and passing it to me.

– White Carnations… – I breathed out the smoke. – I like it. Any particular reason for the name? 

– I don’t know. – She shrugged her shoulders. – Sounded good, I guess. – She was clearly lying, but I didn’t want to push her too hard so I changed the subject. 

I went back to playing some chords on the guitar and we were lost in a comfortable silence, until I had an idea. I started humming something along the lines of: “Ten thousand people stand alone now / And in the evening the sun sank, tomorrow it will rise / Time flies by, they all sing along”, repeating the last line over and over until Ellie started singing it too. At some point she simply changed it to “time flies, bye-bye” and I absolutely loved it. It sounded like something you’d point the mic at people so they could scream at a concert

Only then I realized my bare feet were in her lap, like we had been the closest of friends for ages and not distant neighbors that only now realized that each other existed. Her tattooed hand rested on top of my ankles and her hazy eyes and smile seemed as familiar as my mirror. That evening we wrote the entirety of ‘Come A Little Closer” while sitting on her bedroom window, then ate a bunch of chocolate covered ice cream bites.

[reasonsmandy]

Silver Springs

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by @navia3000 — hi hi hi!!! i’m OBSESSED with your writing and i was wondering if you could write an eddie x reader story for me! i thought of this in the shower, but basically, reader is the bassist of the band and has been in love with eddie for a long time, but eddie is in love with camila. everyone knows she’s madly in love with him, but he doesn’t seem to realize it. after cami and eddie get together that one night at the bar, and then when they’re talking at the party, reader overhears the whole thing and is really upset because camila and her are very close and she knew that reader loved eddie. camila walks back to the party but sees reader standing there and realizes she heard everything. reader gets mad and stops talking to both eddie and cami, just ignoring them every time they’re around. it gets to the point where cami gets fed up and says some mean stuff to reader about eddie not wanting her in front of everyone else. reader packs her stuff and leaves the band without saying anything, basically just pulls a houdini. some time later, the band is at a festival and the band performing before them is the reader’s and she’s the lead singer, and they realize it’s her and are like omg. reader sings her hit song silver springs (og by fleetwood mac but im pretending its reader’s song) and it’s obvi about eddie. she sings it while staring at him just like stevie does lindsey. and you can end it however you want. i know this is really long and im sorry 😭 i just love your writing and wanna see how you do this. thank youuuu :))

✧.* summary — a fic based on Silver Springs by fleetwood mac

✧.* warnings — Camila being a jerk :(((

✧.* word count — 3.2k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — This was soooo fun to write, I'm just obsessed with this song

Love is fucked up, and you were living the worst of it since you fell in love with Eddie Roundtree. Of course, it's not about every type of love, but you knew very well that there is nothing as painful as unreciprocated love. It was like being slowly consumed by a feeling that will always be there, and there's nothing you can do to make it stop.

When you guys decided to move to follow the band's dream, it wasn't an easy decision, you were scared to death that you were making the wrong decision but there was comfort in doing it with those you were close to. Now that you were having the chance to create a new album, you felt like it was time for you to grow up in a big way.

The work had been difficult, you spent a lot of time in the studio recording again and again, and only being done when it was perfect. And despite the regrets, you knew that everything was heading towards what you were going to and were living. There is something that was addictive about work, it made you forget about the disaster surrounding your love life, you felt pathetic for futilely insisting on a feeling that had no direction or departure.

You felt yourself falling in love with Eddie when you guys moved to the new town, despite your time performing gigs and also with other gigs out there, you still spent a lot of time together, something that was enough to make you fall in love with him. He was always very kind and understanding with you, even more so when you missed home a lot, slowly as you became closer to each other you couldn't help your feelings anymore… something you just hated.

Everyone knew that he was deeply in love with Camila, including yourself. You knew that when your heart started beating faster everytime he passed by or talked to you, there were several times you tried to hold every feeling back, knowing that it would only lead to heartbreak.

As everyone knew about Eddie's feelings towards Camila, slowly everyone noticed your feelings towards him. Of course there were jokes and teasing (even more coming from Rojas), but it slowly became an unspoken topic that everyone knew but no one said a thing. And you honestly appreciate it!

You had no idea if Eddie knew about it, and you hoped he never did. Because even if you didn't have any hope, or at least tried not to, you wanted to deprive yourself of the look full of pity coming from someone who doesn't feel the same way. Looking to escape all your thoughts, you spent many more hours than necessary in the studio working late, and today was no different.

“God! You're still here?” Daisy says as she opens the studio door, a cigarette hovering on her lips.

“I have a lot to do.” You say shrugging, while giving her a small smile.

“No she doesn't.” You are startled a little when you hear Karen's voice behind you, turning slightly to see her blonde hair.

“Is this some kind of intervention?” Your laugh came out nervously, they look at each other.

“Well, maybe?” Jones gets closer to you, you can smell the cigarettes on her clothes.

“You're working like a dog, so we thought you could come with us to a party?” Karen suggests, her eyes showing her eager for you to agree.

“I don't know guys…” You scribble some things in your notebook, nothing specific other than lines and circles.

“Come on!” Karen holds one of your hands to help you up. “Just try it, I promise that if you don't like it Daisy will take you home.”

“Oh, I will?” Daisy looks at her, you can't help but laugh when you see Karen giving her a threatening look. “Yeah, of course I will.”

You see no escape, so you soon find yourself among a considerable number of people wearing your favorite dress. Karen had been called by a boy to talk better, you hadn't noticed who it was but you knew where she was in case it took too long and you got worried, Daisy was lying on a sun chair around the pool talking to a group of people you had no idea who they were, and you, as expected, were standing there waiting for something interesting to happen.

With your half-full glass in hand, you approach the chairs looking to sit somewhere, your steps stop when you see a familiar figure you blink a few times to make sure you were right, and after a few blinks you confirm that Eddie was there too. Having been alone for a long time and bearing in mind that you wouldn't have company anytime soon, you decide to go to him.

As you make your way into the crowd you see him getting up, you frown trying to get a look at where the hell he was heading to. After a few attempts, bumping into some people and a couple of "I'm sorry" to those who had been pushed past you, you are amazed at what you find. It was unusual to see Camila leaving the house for a party, especially alone, you were immediately surprised, looking around to see if other band members were around.

Well, it wasn't the worst case scenario! At least now you have more company to spend the night with, you continue but immediately notice a different air between them. Your body weakens and your heart races, he gets closer to her and she doesn't step back, you can't help but wonder what the fuck was going on so you decide to sit near them and try your best to hear them.

“Wow, you chose me over sure thing like that?” You barely hear Camila's voice among the others.

“I'll choose you over everyone.” Your heart hurts on your chest, you felt sad.

The silence between them is all you hear even with the noise around you, you turn to see what was happening and bitterly regret what your eyes found. Camila holds Roundtree's face gently, her shaking hands indicated apparent nervousness and her fingers didn't show firmness, she was kissing him.

You couldn't believe what your eyes were showing you, your friend forever was kissing the man you were in love with. It was more than a pain, it was a deep betrayal. You didn't give a shit about the fact that Billy was also being betrayed, he had already done worse to her, but you... She knew your feelings, nothing could justify what your eyes witnessed.

You quickly grab your bag, not bothering to tell Daisy or Karen that you were leaving, you just wanted to disappear.

Knowing that you would eventually have to see Eddie if you returned home, you decide to go to any 24-hour establishment, any place where you could get your head around work in peace. Maybe it was raw feelings, or just lack of attention, but you didn't care if disappearing caused a fuss among your friends. If it were up to you, a complete song would be created that night out of all your frustrations.

…

When Eddie opened the doors to the house he was surprised to see the lights on, Karen was on the sofa with her hands in her hair and her legs kept moving up and down. He frowns and gives a questioning look to Warren who was eating a banana in the corner of the room, he just takes a deep breath and doesn't give another answer.

“I swear to God, if she's not having sex right she better have a good excuse to just disappear!” Karen utters, Graham puts one of his hands on her back as comfort.

“What the fuck is going on?” Roundtre asks, a little bit worried.

“Y/N, Daisy and I went to a party and she just vanished.” Sirko's blonde locks got messy as she frantically ran her hands through it.

“What?” Eddie widens his eyes, worried. "You left her alone?"

“Are you going to keep throwing things in my face? I know I fucked up, alright.”

“I think we all should take a rest, it's late.” Graham says.

“Yeah, and besides… I'm pretty sure she'll be back tomorrow.” Rojas tries to comfort everyone, and after a while he manages to get them all a little bit more calm.

…

You were a mess, your hair was a mess, your papers spread across the table were a mess and you didn't even want to look at your face. But you had a song made, lyrics complete, rhythm organized and the guitar and bass part was done, and even with a lot of anguish, you were proud of your work.

You quickly stuff the papers into your backpack, and order a taxi to the house you shared with the band, knowing that you would be scolded for disappearing last night. But honestly, all you wanted was to forget what happened.

“I'm gonna kill you.” You hear Karen's voice and Immediately let out a long breath, she stops when she sees your face. “Bloody hell you look horrible.”

“Thank you very much” You roll your eyes, trying to pass by her, he holds your arm.

“What happened?” You can see she was worried, but you felt pathetic just thinking about saying any of this out loud.

“I can't say it.”

“Bullshit!” She crosses her arms and stops in front of you, preventing you from going forward.

“Fine, I don't want to say it.”

“Where were you yesterday?” She tries once more.

“Writing.”

“You left in the middle of the party to write?” Karen arches her eyebrows, in disbelief. “Without any extra reasons?”

You see Camila approaching, and it takes a lot for you not to cry when you see the person you trusted who had broken your heart so easily. You avoid her eyes, wiping away the tears that escaped.

“Look, I don't want to cause any fuss.” Your voice was choked, your gaze fixed on your foot.

“Karen called me worried yesterday, what happened? Where were you?" Camila comes with her calm voice, you feel a disappointment growing in your core.

“I left, alright?” You say louder than you expected, closing your eyes to take a deep breath. “And I'm leaving.”

“Who's leaving?” Warren's voice comes behind you, he joins everyone. “Hey Y/N, you good?”

“Not really, no.” You give him a small smile, he for sure would be one of the things that made this harder. “I'm quitting the band.”

“What?” They all say together, you swallow hard.

“Why?” Karen was shocked, in disbelief.

“I love you guys so much.” You say between tears, taking a while to pull yourself together. “But I only get hurt lately, and I need time to heal.”

“Who's hurting you?” Warren says in defence. “I'll kick their ass!”

You let out a laugh, “I don't want to cause a mess between you guys, I'm just going to pack my things and go.”

“I don't get it.” Karen says, so lost.

“Just be honest with us.” Camila asks.

“Look, it's fine.” You shrug, holding your bag close to you. “Just like I said, I don't want scandal.”

“You're being ridiculous.” Sirko let's out, frustrated.

“Can I talk to you for a sec?” Camila asks, nodding towards the balcony, you go with her. “What's happening to you?"

“I saw what you did yesterday." Your voice became more choked, you tried hard not to cry. “How could you?”

“What are you talking about?” You can see that she is taken by surprise.

“I saw you kissing Eddie yesterday.” Your vision is blurry with tears. “Why?”

“Look, let's not over react this…” Her voice is lower now, as if trying her best to avoid any attention.

“How on earth am I overreacting?” Slowly you got mad, trying to hold back all your emotions. “All this years I told you how I felt about him, how I bad I felt and yet you… you still did it.”

“Y/N, that's no reason to leave the band.” She avoids the subject. “They need a bass player, you can't just leave when they're recording an album…”

“No fucking reason?” You were shocked, your heart racing. “You don't even care about me, you're worried about the band.”

“Stop being like that.” She rolls her eyes. “It's been years of this, he doesn't like you. I know I did wrong but not with you, with my husband…”

“You think that what you did with me was not a betrayal?”

“I honestly don't think so.” She laughs, and that sents you. “He doesn't feel a thing about you, maybe it's time for you to get over it.”

You cry, your chest hurts. “I'm leaving.”

You turn to leave, knowing that your conversation has been heard by the others when you are met with pitying eyes.

…

You said you would and you did, you left there and only kept in touch with Karen after a few months of leaving. Little by little you got good opportunities, and over time you joined a band that was having great success.

Your song 'Silver Springs' had been written on one of the most troubled nights of your life and had now become your ticket to glorious days like this one. Festivals were your favorite days, you just loved to feel the audience's energy and sing along with them.

But besides loving all of this, today was being chaotic… You knew you went on stage in a few minutes and your guitar player was extremely drunk, you were furious and extremely nervous.

“Oh my God!” The British accent said each word slowly, you turned to see your ex bandmate with a wide smile heading towards you. “You look amazing! It's been so long.”

You go to her hugging her for a while, after some usual questions like "how have you been?" "How are the others?" "Any news?" She looks into your eyes with her eyebrows showing concern.

“Is everything alright?” She asks.

“Not actually, our guitar player fucked up.” Your voice was filled with nerves. “And we're up soon, I don't know what to do! He is the only one who can actually sing and—

“I could help.” You jump when you hear Eddie's voice behind you, you're body reacting weirdly at the sight of him after so long.

“Hearing our conversations?” You try to hide your small smile. “I see you didn't change, uh.”

“Not a bit.” He gives you a smile and you remember why you fell for him in the first place. “So, what do you say?”

“Do you really know the song?” You wanted to hide the way your body automatically wanted to go to him.

“You kidding me?” He jokes, adjusting his collar. “Everyone knows this song, it's amazing.”

“I'd love your help Eddie, thank you!” Somehow you feel peace between you two.

…

You feel the lights on your skin as you get yourself ready, amidst the expectant hush of the gathered crowd, the first haunting notes of "Silver Springs" begin to weave through the air. You get to the center of the stage, paying attention to the audience as you let the notes lead you, your presence commanding and vulnerable all at once. Opposite you, Eddie Roundtree appears—a silent sentinel, yet a potent source of the tension that fills the space between you.

The audience goes crazy, everyone knew the rumors about your song and what has inspired you. There was a huge controversy about the release of this song right after you left Daisy Jones and The Six, so when they all see Eddie Roundtree by your side to play it was for sure a fact to cheer for.

As your voice rises, imbued with a raw, piercing emotion, the air seems to thicken. Each word you sing, a testament to love lost and the pain of what could have been, hangs heavy in the atmosphere. Somehow you remember ‘Regret Me’ and how Daisy let out her feelings in the lyrics, you felt connected to her even though you left. Eddie's gaze, intense and unwavering, meets yours. It's a look that speaks volumes, a silent dialogue that only those who have loved and lost can fully comprehend.

You feel the audience’s attention, and your heart softens as you hear their voices sing along with you. As the song goes on, its lyrics casting spells of everything you once felt for the man by your side, the connection between you and Eddie becomes palpable, almost a living thing that reaches out and enfolds every heart in the venue.

With every verse, the space between you seems both to widen and to shrink, a paradox that only deepens the allure of your interaction. It's as if the song is a bridge you're both building back to a moment lost in time, laden with all the things left unsaid. The air vibrates with the tension of the unspoken, the weight of history that both separates and binds you two. It's a tension that speaks to the heartache of love's aftermath, the beauty of art born from pain.

You see in Eddie's eyes curiosity and at the same time regret, you consider looking away, but once you connect like that it is impossible for you to look away. It was like letting your souls show, and dance together. You approach him without taking your eyes off at any time, he accompanies you to the music feeling tense.

As the song reaches its crescendo, a silent conversation occurs in the span of a few heartbeats. It's a moment of vulnerability and power, a clash of emotions that spills over into the audience, leaving an indelible mark on the collective consciousness of the crowd. The applause that follows is thunderous, not just for the technical brilliance of the performance, but for the courage it took to bare such raw emotions in the full view of the world.

“Thank you so much ladies and gentlemen! I hope you enjoyed our show and have an amazing time with my friends… everyone, please welcome Daisy Jones and The Six"

You leave the stage accompanied by your band, you imagined that Eddie would stay on stage to save time, but the touch on your shoulder that makes you turn around tells you no.

“Hey, can we talk?” Eddie says, you can sense his tension.

“But, you guys are up next.” You point to the other band members arranging their instruments.

“I just, I wanted to know…” He holds back, trying to figure out what to say. “I just wanted to know if you still… if you still feel the same way about me.”

You swallow hard, “Do we really have to talk about this?”

“You know I didn't mean to hurt you.” You avoid his eyes. “I really didn't.”

“It's okay, we don't have to talk about it.”

“But I do want to, this song is…”

“Eddie, it's the truth.” You didn't know how to say this in another way. “I was hurt, and I guess I did a good job, because I'm sure you'll never forget the sound of me.”

He avoids your eyes, letting out a chuckle. “Do you think we can be friends?”

“I don't think I'm ready for that.” You say honestly, his eyes, despite being sad, seem to show understanding. “But maybe we'll meet again someday.”

“I really hope so.” He whispers.

“Hey brother, we gotta go.” Warren calls out for Eddie, turning to you. “You guys nailed it up there.” You murmur to him a “thank you.”

“Good-bye guys.” You say goodbye, leaving Eddie with just the sound of your love.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

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[auroralwriting]

i urge everyone who is in love with finnick odair to watch his actor, sam claflin, in amazon's series daisy jones & the six. you will not regret it.

[andy-15-07]

Our life together

masterlist ! pairing: Sam Claflin x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff, love , family love

There are many things that you will not forget with your first born, the first tooth, the first step. Sam and I filmed every moment in the life of our daughter, Mary Rosie Claflin. Since our daughter was born, Sam took a little break from acting and I didn't take any break, not even during pregnancy because I'm a songwriter and most of the time I work at home.

Mary was born on Sam's birthday, he always says that I gave him the most beautiful gift in the world and that no one can give him a more beautiful gift than this, he became a father on his birthday.

It's December 15, that means it's the first Christmas with Mary who is almost 6 months old, all she did was eat, sleep and play with her daddy.

Sam and I did everything in our power to make the most beautiful Christmas just for our beautiful daughter and today her daddy will take the tree to decorate it.

While Sam and I were decorating the tree, Mary sat either in my arms or on Sam's hip, she pointed to the blue ornaments and mumbled something she understood, when the time came to turn on the lights, I amd my daughter was sitting down , with her on my lap.

When my dear husband plugged them in, Mary's eyes shone.

"Look who's happy when she sees the tree, our Mary is happy," says Sam and tickles her little foot.

"Of course she's happy, it's her first Christmas, the first time Santa comes to her because she was a very good girl, isn't that right Sam?" I ask him and put my head on his shoulder.

"It's very true my love, everything is new for her and we're here to make her the best Christmas ever." Sam says and kisses my temple.

When I look at our daughter, she looks so curious at what is happening in front of her, how the lights change color, and she reaches out to a pink globe, Mary tries to take it from the tree but she can't reach it and this does it to get upset and we expected her to start crying.

Sam was faster and took her from my lap, got up with her and started humming a song that I know will calm her down a bit.

"What happened, why are you crying Mary? Everything will be fine, mommy and daddy are here with you. What made you so upset? Hmm" his voice calmed her and she looked intently at her father, as if to say the most special thing on this earth.

I still haven't gotten used to these beautiful moments of interaction between Sam and our beautiful daughter. While I look at the two of them, my dear husband motions me to approach them.

"My love, everything is fine. We are here with you." I say to Mary and I approach her and kiss her on the cheek.

"Y/n thank you for all the good times we spent together and thank you for making me a father. I love you so much Y/n Claflin!" He tells me and kisses me, I put my hand on his cheek and prolong the kiss, Sam is the first to break the kiss and leans down and kisses Mary on the forehead.

"I love you too Sam Claflin!" I say and look at our most special gift in our life, Mary Rosie Claflin.

"And you our little treasure, we love you very much, from here to the moon and back." Sam says and puts his arm around me and the three of us hug.

How I got so lucky in life I don't know, but the only thing I know is that I have the most beautiful family in the world and I wouldn't give anything in the world to change that.

[bi-bard]

Stick Season [We'll All Be Here Forever] Writing Challenge Masterlist

Here's the stories written for the deluxe tracks that were released on Noah Kahan's "Stick Season (We'll All Be Here Forever)".

If you want to see the writing challenge for the original album, then you can click here

I hope you all enjoy these stories because I've had fun making them.

------------------

Your Needs, My Needs

You'll Always Be a Flower on my Skin and the Pain that I Am In Daisy Jones X Reader [Daisy Jones & the Six] Summary: (Y/n) and Daisy are two broken people that had learned to rely on each other. However, at what point does support become reliance? When does helping become enabling? What do you do when the person that probably saved you becomes the very reason that you haven't been able to save yourself?

Dial Drunk

I Dial Drunk, I'll Die a Drunk, I'd Die for You Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto X Reader [The Bear] Summary: A night of drunken grief lands Carmy in more trouble than he thought it would. He calls the one person that he remembers being able to rely on. His night of calls brings up old memories of the person that seems to be hellbent on ignoring him.

Paul Revere

If I Could Leave, I Would've Already Left Luca X Reader [The Bear] Summary: When Luca left for Copenhagen, he didn't mean to leave (Y/n) completely on their own. After years of not talking, he finally finds that nerve to reconnect with them, deciding to invite them out to visit. At first, all seems well, but something is clearly off... Luca just has to get (Y/n) to admit that.

No Complaints

I Saw the End, it Looks Just Like the Middle Tommy Shelby X Reader [Peaky Blinders] Summary: A face from Tommy's past comes home. When he tries to reconnect, he's quickly dismissed. If only his stubbornness would vanish long enough for him to accept it.

Call Your Mom

Throw a Punch, Fall in Love, Give Yourself a Reason Aziraphale & Crowley X Platonic!Reader [Good Omens] Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley are left on a hunt for something... well, someone quite important. When they find who they were looking for, they are confronted with questions that they have no answer to.

You're Gonna Go Far

We Ain't Angry at You, Love, You're the Greatest Thing We've Lost Morpheus X Dream!Reader [The Sandman] Summary: After the events with the Corinthian and the Dream Vortex, many thought that Morpheus may have run out of any remaining kindness and leniency. However, they were gravely mistaken. It simply took a well-intentioned dream to prove it.

The View Between Villages - Extended [PART ONE HERE]

I'm Back Between Villages, and Everything's Still Tenth Doctor X Reader [Doctor Who] Summary: A further look into the trip that the Doctor and (Y/n) took to (Y/n)'s hometown. The one place that (Y/n) never wanted to walk into again.

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[c0renswet]

scott x reader where they have insane sexual tension and everyone notices (and is fed up) but them so they keep forming elaborate plans to get them alone together

Next Time (scott miller x reader) part I - 18+ MDNI

warnings: sexual tension, swearing, scott being scott, not enemies but not friends to lovers, eventual kissing, eventual smut

a/n: i thought i’d put a twist on this request and make it a multi-part fic! i hope anon doesn’t mind that it’s not specifically the pov from the crew/other chasers but rather the tension filled journey between scott x reader :,)

my inbox is open for requests! rules for requests are on my pinned post :)

part two | part three

This wasn’t your first season chasing with Scott. You’d first met him at a little gas station in the middle Oklahoma. Scott’s rigid demeanor intimidated you, but your friend Javi had practically pushed you two together. Your first chase with Scott was tension filled and awkward, you could tell he didn’t exactly respect you.

That was 3 years ago, and now, you were more than used to Scott’s dull personality. The tension-filled relationship had only grown between the two of you, but neither of you cared to admit how you felt to each other.

“Which cell is it gonna be?”

You’re standing in a gas station parking lot, holding an iPad in front of Scott, a radar image pulled up on the screen. The rest of the Storm Par crew was dispersed around their vehicles and Javi was off somewhere, you assumed he’d gone to get snacks and drinks for the crew.

“You tell me.”

Scott’s answer was short and direct. You knew this game- he’d let you choose and then tell you that he thought otherwise.

“West.”

You inquired, your response just as short and direct as Scott’s.

“You sure? East looks better.”

Scott’s eyes met yours from under his sunglasses. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you knew they glistened with cockiness.

“I’m always sure.”

You rolled your eyes at him, putting the iPad at your side. Javi came running out of the gas station, plastic bags in his hands. He stopped to give bags to other members of the crew before making his way over to you and Scott.

“You guys want snacks?”

Javi held two bags in front of each of you.

You took a bag from him and peered inside— all of your favorites. You smiled.

“Thanks, Javi.”

Scott took the second bag and muttered something that sounded like a thank you before walking to your chase vehicle.

“Where are we headed?”

Javi asked, but you could tell he already knew the answer.

“West.”

You winked and smiled at him before turning and walking to the SUV.

—

“I’m tired of your little game, Scott.”

You broke the silence in the vehicle. It was a silence you’d gotten comfortable with, you knew Scott wasn’t one for small talk or casual conversations- especially with you.

“What game?”

Scott’s eyes were trained on the road in front of him, Javi’s truck not far in front of your SUV.

“The whole ‘East looks better’ bullshit.”

You adjusted in your seat. Typical of him to act like he didn’t know the way he treated you. You heard something that sounded like a scoff come from him.

You expected an arrogant response but it never came. You wondered if you’d caught him off guard with your declaration.

“It’s been 3 years, Scott. I can understand not liking me, but you should respect me. I think I’ve shown that I deserve that, at the very least.”

You knew you were venturing into dangerous territory by the way his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. But, you were almost eager to push his buttons- to tell him everything you’d bitten back for 3 years. You wanted to be mean to him, drill the words into him and break him down like the times he’d broken you down for making simple mistakes.

Again, no response. You wondered if he was doing this on purpose, making you sit in his silence while he plotted how he was going to pull you aside and belittle you after the chase.

“I don’t dislike you.”

After a few minutes, his words cut through the silence. Your mind did a full stop.

“What?”

“I don’t dislike you.”

Scott repeated. His eyes darted to you for a second before returning to the road. The words cut through you. Everything you’d ever assumed he thought about you had just been squashed.

The familiar silence returned. You weren’t sure what to say, or even what to think. You stared at the yellow lines that split the road into two lanes. It felt like they went on forever.

—

“Hey, good job today. Sorry we didn’t get anything.”

Javi handed you the key card to your room. The two of you stood in the parking lot of a cheap motel. The rest of Storm Par had either gone to their rooms or were dispersed throughout the lot, talking with other chasers or cleaning out their vehicles.

“Oh well. There’s always next time.”

You managed a half smile. Sure, you were disappointed, but you were tired and ready to be away from everyone.

“Yeah- well, goodnight. See you tomorrow.”

Javi smiled, patting your shoulder before walking off. You almost felt bad for keeping the conversation short but you were glad to be left alone. You started walking to your room, ready to be in the warmth of a bed.

“Hey.”

You heard a voice behind you. You swore you let out a curse under your breath before turning around. Scott was standing there, clipboard resting under his arm.

“What?”

The word came out harsher than you’d meant for it to but you didn’t care. This was supposed to be your time, you just wanted to be away from him.

“East looked better.”

You stood there. You bit your tongue, holding back the long line of curses that threatened to spill from your lips.

“You followed me over here to tell me that?”

You managed, turning to walk away from him. You wanted to be away from him.

“Not so fast.”

He caught your arm with his hand.

“You aren’t always sure.”

Asshole, you thought. You knew he was doing this on purpose, this was just another one of his ways of giving you shit, but you weren’t in the mood.

“Fuck off.”

You shrugged out of his grasp.

“Why? Is there somewhere you need to be?”

Scott tilted his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest, clipboard resting under them.

“Yeah, there is. Away from you.”

You spat, walking away from him again.

Scott watched you walk away for a moment before following you.

“I said I don’t dislike you. This is what I get for that?”

You scoffed.

“Then why do you treat me like shit?”

Scott shrugged.

“Because it’s fun.”

You stopped at the door to your room and turned towards him again. His arms were back to his sides. You were almost too tired to care about what he was saying.

“I see. Goodnight.”

Sarcasm dripped from your voice. You turned to put the key card in the lock. You opened the door and slammed it shut, leaving Scott standing outside like a dog on your doorstep.

You quickly changed clothes and climbed into bed. The softness of the sheets and warmth of the blankets instantly relaxed you. You closed your eyes, enjoying the peacefulness.

—

You didn’t know how long it had been before there was a knock at your door. You ignored it. There was another. You opened your eyes. Sighing, you turned on the bedside lamp and got up. You unlocked the door, not even bothering to see who was there before you did. Opening it, you felt every ounce of peace fade away.

Scott stood there in his black undershirt and a pair of sweatpants, a plastic bag in his hand. His curls hung in the low light of the hallway. It was rare you saw him in anything other than his white Storm Par button up and perfectly ironed pants. You hated to admit that he looked good.

“Wanted to give this to you.”

He extended the bag towards you. You blinked at him. Maybe if you blinked enough, he’d go away.

“Take it.”

Scott held up the bag. Wanting him to go away, you took it from him. You pushed the door shut when his hand stopped it, pushing it back open.

“Where’s my thank you?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Thanks.”

You rolled your eyes and shut the door.

You opened the bag. A few of your favorite snacks were inside, along with a note. Curious, you picked up the note.

There’s always next time.

- Scott

“Asshole.”

You said out loud, putting the note back in the bag and throwing the bag on the table by the door. You climbed back into bed and turned off the lamp. You closed your eyes again, sleep finding you not long after.

[hearts-are-connected]

My sixth viewing of Twisters has been completed, and I've already got my ticket to see it and the original movie Twister (1996) in 4DX for the end of the month. Let's gooooo, bring this movie to home release so I can watch it over and over again.

I must get to work on the third chapter of my story.

[wrangleandtame]

Here’s a wee fluffy fic: canon-divergence after El Reno Tornado. Full fluff under the cut.

HE SAW STARS

Tyler was running before his mind made sense of what was happening. His legs could only carry him as fast as his injury would allow, and had he actually thought through his intentions, he would have found a working car in the rubble. As it was, he could only function on his driving instinct to reach her.

A prayer ran through his mind to the beat of his heart and in time with his footfall: please be alive please be alive please be alive please be alive…

In a field of what might have once been thriving winter wheat he felt more than heard a white pickup truck pull up next to him, Boone at the wheel hollering, “get in! Get in!”

“North!” Tyler directed as he pulled himself onto the blanketed benchseat.

“Yep,” Boone floored it.

“Whose truck is this?” Tyler asked, his eyes desperately scanning the horizon for a glimpse of yellow barrels, a red truck - anything.

“No idea,” Boone shrugged, “shit there it is!”

He could see his truck in the distance flipped upside down, “faster Boone.”

As they approached, Tyler spotted her prone body a few feet from the truck.

No no no no no no no. He didn’t know whether he was thinking it or saying it aloud, but he was out of the truck before it even came to a full stop and dropped to the ground beside her. She lay on her back unconscious and spread like a starfish.

“No. Nonononono,” he whispered, pulling her limp body into his lap and clumsily pressing two fingers into her neck in different spots attempting to locate her pulse.

She was covered in haphazard cuts and dirt, bruises already forming on her arms. A significant amount of blood on her forehead sent dread shooting through him.

“Kate! Kate, wake up!” Tyler pleaded just as he found the steady beat of her pulse.

“Wake up. I need you to wake up Kate,” his voice calmed by her sign of life, he attempted to gently brush back the blonde locks sticking to the blood on her forehead. Small pieces of glass imbedded in her skin flickered light like diamonds

“I am awake,” she mumbled without opening her eyes, and Tyler could hear Boone behind him releasing a held breath.

Tyler smiled at the sound of her voice, “can you open your eyes for me? Kate? Open your eyes.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and confusion dressed her face. “Tyler?” She rasped, then her eyes closed again.

“Stay with me here Kate,” Tyler thumbed mud from her chin.

Her eyes slowly opened again, this time unfocused and then looking past him into the sky and she gasped, “did it work?”

“You did it. You saved us.”

She scanned his face, and her smile immediately dropped, “then why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying,” he countered, two fat tears marking a clean runway down his smiling face.

“Tyler are you hurt? Your leg?”

“I’m fine,” he kept smiling. He couldn’t stop smiling.

“Did we…” the words stuck and she swallowed.

“Did we what?” He sniffed.

“Did we lose anyone? Is Javi okay?”

“Javi’s fine. The team is fine. You saved us. But I’d like to get you to a hospital.”

“Am I hurt? Is that why you’re crying?”

“I’m not crying,” he repeated, a tear dropping from his chin onto her chest, “I think you have a concussion. At least.”

“A concussion? Did I hit my head?”

“Your pupils are dilated, you’ve got a pretty good hairline laceration.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad. So did I pass the tornado wrangler initiation?”

Boone laughed, “I think you get to be president now.”

She tipped her head to get a glimpse of Boone and winced in obvious pain, a small cry escaping her lips.

“What? What is it?” Tyler ran his hand down her neck looking for injuries.

“Mm,” she squinted her eyes closed, “just give me…a second.”

“What hurts? Kate?”

“I think maybe…my shoulder is out of… I feel a little drunk, but not in a good way,” she opened her eyes and watched Tyler’s face contort in concern.

“Collarbone, yeah, I see it. Kate, I think it’s broken.”

“Your eyes, god, they’re beautiful when you cry,” she ran her left thumb along his eyebrow, down around his ear and along his jaw.

“He’s crying because he thought you were toast,” Boone added helpfully, “I’m going to check the truck, maybe there’s something we can use for a sling or something.”

“That’s why? You were worried? For me?” Tyler grabbed her hand from his jaw and held it.

“You drove into that tornado. By yourself. You just, you just left.”

“You drive into tornadoes all the time.”

“Not like that. That was brave and I was scared you were… That you… Shit, Kate,” he blinked rapidly, the tears pooling again.

“Come here.”

“Where?”

“I can’t raise myself up because of my possibly broken clavicle, so I’m going to need you to lean in here so that I can kiss you.”

His eyes rounded

She smiled her full toothy grin, “preferably before Boone gets back.”

He dropped his mouth into hers, not as tentatively as he would have liked and kissed the living daylights out of her.

Tyler would describe it to anyone who would listen for years to come: This epically great kiss ended with his vision dissolving into stars—that’s how good it was. Kate could then be counted on to interject that there was a valid scientific explanation for seeing stars, and it was simply the interplay of neurological, retinal, and physiological responses to hypoxia, probably brought on by adrenaline surges and vasodilation.

“Definitely,” Tyler would agree with a wink, “adrenaline surges and vasodilation brought on by you in that red tank top with the camera holster.”