#getting the rain world requests out of the way | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hyunebunx · 2 months ago

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˖˙ ᰋ ── you, clouds and rain (and the wine on your lips)

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff, slightly suggestive

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: my mindy requested something soft and domestic with a slice of spicy tension with hyun and who am i to say no? enjoyyy <33 and let me know your thoughts <3 part two right here

When shooting your tired boyfriend a message this morning, inviting him over for lunch and a cuddle sesh by the television, the last thing you expected was a power outage. Even though it was still light outside, the sun and its bright rays were obscured by dark and angry clouds that could only mean one thing: rain.

Hyunjin was a fan of rain, loving the silence and how the whole world seemed to slow down and hurry home. He could be as silly as he wanted and nobody would judge him, too busy to remain dry to care about anything else. You, on the other hand, hated rain. It usually ruined all of your plans and kept you stuck inside, depriving you of sunlight and everything you loved. Including seeing your beloved and going on cute dates, holding hands throughout the day while exploring new and exciting places neither has seen before.

And now it ruined another one of your plans because things could never go your way, now, could they?

“I’m so sorry, Hyun.” You sigh, playing around with the food on your plate, absolutely dejected.

Hyunjin shakes his head and tries to hide the smile threatening to stretch across his features, freshly dried hair bouncing with his every move. “You’re sorry for what exactly?”

Thunder interrupts before you can even begin, souring your mood further as Hyunjin reaches for your fork, twirls it around expertly and brings it to your mouth to eat before it gets cold. You’ve worked hard on this pasta, letting it go to waste would be a shame.

“The rain.” You mumble before chewing, pouting. He waits patiently for you to finish before leaning over the table to wipe some sauce that has somehow landed on your chin.

“You can’t control the weather, baby.” He smiles, fondness spilling from his eyes as he watches you reach for your drink. Your apartment was no longer bright, engulfed in this darkness that would fool anyone into believing night was about to set at any moment. Fortunately, you managed to prepare everything before the power went out so at least your lunch date wasn’t completely ruined.

To set the mood and try to lift your spirits, Hyunjin has lit a lone candle between you on the table – a romantic till the end, you’re convinced your boyfriend would shrivel up and die if he couldn’t spoil you somehow.

“Well, I want to control it all to make you happy!” The statement is a bit childish but not far from the truth. For Hyunjin, you would do anything to see that beautiful smile of his lighten up every room. Control the weather, move mountains and even give him the moon which he embodied without even realizing. As bright as he was, Hyunjin was the moon in your eyes, illuminating every dark corner of your world with his ethereal glow that left every passerby in awe.

Breathtakingly beautiful, both from the exterior and from within. There was no other person like him in this universe.

This time, he laughs, eyes turning into two crescent moons as if to prove your previous point. “I’m the happiest as long as I’m with you, no matter the weather, time or place. I thought you knew that?”

You’re aware yet your heart still skips a beat, as it always does whenever he opens his mouth and hits you with such a line. Hyunjin wasn’t shy in the slightest when it came to you and the love that was overflowing out of him. All of it was yours, of course. He could never love another in the way he loved you for as long as he lived.

“Doesn’t matter.” You still shake your head, deciding to be stubborn. “It still ruined our plans. I was looking forward to finishing that show together and now we can’t.”

He takes a sip of his wine, the condensation on the glass proof of the warmth in the apartment. “It’s not like we can’t watch it another time, baby.”

“I guess.”

“Don’t pout.” His bigger hand settles on top of yours on the table, bringing it to his plump lips to plant a lingering kiss on the smooth skin. “I came over to see your beautiful smile and talk each other’s ears off. Don’t make me sad.”

Hyunjin makes a face, dramatizing his sadness and you finally laugh, returning to your meal with newfound vigour. He always managed to make even the gloomiest days happier, and you suspected your boyfriend might actually be an angel in disguise, sent from above to watch over you.

“So,” he starts, happiness radiating off of him at the delicious food, his hand still holding onto yours, “did you finish that new book you were telling me about the other day, yet?”

The rain was hitting your windows heavily, creating a curtain of sorts that kept you and Hyunjin separated from the outside world, protected from all evil in your little love bubble that continued to grow with every moment spent together. Excited, with your whole face lighting up, you stand abruptly and make your way over to plop yourself onto his lap without shame, just so you can snuggle while granting his wish. You were about to talk both of his ears off until he begged you to stop. And knowing Hyunjin, he might actually like that.

Time flies as you’re having fun with your other half, while he listens attentively to your every word, so drawn to you and the way your mouth moves that he can barely look away as he remembers to keep feeding you and himself until both of your plates are empty. If it were up to him, Hyunjin would glue your hands together so you’d never have to be more than a foot apart at all times. But reality is cruel, and spending all your time with your beloved was not socially acceptable – for some reason, you couldn’t make money this way. He really hated capitalism for keeping you away from him.

After a while, you both stand to wash the dishes, with him on your trail and being assigned to drying duty.

You’re laughing together as Hyunjin tells you more stories from work, something that happened the other day at the company, not leaving anything out. He was so honest and open about his feelings that nothing he said surprised you anymore.

Your back is to him as you wash the last glass when you feel strong arms pulling you to a sturdy chest, wrapping around your middle to ground the man as he leans over to hug you with all his might. You smile, genuinely, and rest your head on his shoulder just to plant multiple kisses on his cheek. He giggles, and you quickly shake the water and bubbles off your hands to turn around in his embrace and face him.

“Hi.” You smile, briefly kissing his nose. Thanks to the smaller windows, the kitchen was even darker than your dining room, creating a cosier, more intimate atmosphere one could only dream of basking in. Romantic with a pinch of tension neither could shake off - the pleasant kind.

The rain showed no sign of stopping any time soon so for the time being, you were the only two people in the world.

“Your smile is my favorite.” He’s staring deeply into your eyes, strong hands following the outline of your body downwards to rest on your hips and bring you closer, wanting to make you one. The butterflies start going crazy, flapping their colorful wings against your ribcage in a desperate attempt at being let out, longing to be touched by him just like you were.

Your arms come around his neck, and you’re nose to nose now. “You’re my favorite.”

Hyunjin breaks into a grin, one he can’t contain before closing his eyes and burying his face in the crock of your neck, hugging you close.

“You know what I really want right now?” His voice is low, the vibration against your skin sending a shiver down your spine as his hold on you tightens.

You shake your head, one of your hands moving to tangle into his hair and massage his scalp. “Tell me, so I can make it happen.”

He chuckles, thumbs drawing random shapes on your sides you could make out if concentrating on anything else other than his voice was possible. “You don’t even know what I want to ask for yet.”

“It doesn’t matter.” You respond a little too quickly, tenderly coaxing his head out of hiding just so you could see his eyes again and marvel at their beauty. “I’ll do anything for you.”

“Anything?” Hyunjin leans closer, trapping your body between him and the sink as he towers over you, few strands of his hair tickling your forehead. Your breath catches in your throat and you try shallowing, anything to get rid of this sudden lump that’s preventing the oxygen from reaching your brain.

When you nod, his eyes soften, warm hand sneaking beneath your shirt to feel skin, needing this contact to remind himself you are real and the possibility of you disappearing right before his very eyes were slim.

Then, without waiting for his next line, your hand grasps at his fluffy sweater and yanks him forward to connect your lips in a sweet kiss, one that has you both releasing a relieved breath, that acts like the lifeline you need to cling to, to survive.

His lips are soft and warm, and you can faintly taste the wine he indulged in, lingering on his skin. The hand that isn’t under your shirt finds solace at the back of your neck, gingerly deepening the kiss as thunder strikes once again. Not like you care anymore; not when he’s kissing you like he’s trying to burn to memory every nook and cranny of your physical existence.

Heads tilted, his tongue sneaks in to greet yours for the briefest moment before Hyunjin pulls away with great difficulty, chest heaving as he struggles to regain his composure.

“A blanket fort.” He almost croaks out, voice raspy and heart very much disappointed when he tears himself away from you to make some room.

You blink, confused and a little dazed, hands darting to latch themselves onto his sweatshirt so he won’t go too far. “What?”

With a laugh, he throws his head back for a moment, calming down before clarifying. “I want to build a blanket fort. Since the power isn’t back yet, I thought we could have some fun doing that.”

You’re bamboozled, almost spinning around in search of the hidden camera that will confirm this is all a prank.

“But I thought…” You trail off, arms falling to your sides as you look down in embarrassment.

Hyunjin is quick to raise your head, with a finger under your chin and another dazzling smile. “Didn’t you just say you’d do anything for me?”

What a fucking tease. How were you ever supposed to say no to that smile?

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meiieiri · 11 months ago

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𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐩 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: toji will never forget the first night he spent away from the zenin clan and the day he met you.

pairing: toji fushiguro x f!reader | song inspo: saw you in a dream, timeless | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist

warnings: mentions of emotional abuse but generally pretty much a fluff fic where toji and y/n meet for the first time. | a/n: finally launching my little love project called “hidden inventory: the lost tapes”! 🍒

Now isn’t this just perfect?

Toji’s is just one inconvenience away from just going back to the Zenin clan with his tail between his legs. First, he underestimates just how expensive living in Tokyo is so, with what little pocket money his emotionally distant mother gave him before he left the estate, the first thing he does is spend it all on a girl — in broad daylight — he’s heard his brother, Jinichi, talk about those cute little call girls that crawl the streets of Kabukichō with flyers in their hand for thirty-minute “massages”. Naturally, as a young man who is only first experiencing the carnal joys the city has to offer, Toji was curious and he took the bait.

A bait that cost him ¥30,000 and the girl was unfortunately sloppy at best.

Now, he doesn’t have money to buy so much as a soggy red bean pancake for dinner. He doesn’t know how long he’s been walking around this dingy part of Shinjuku but as long as the red light district’s trashy ambience is distracting him from the growling of his stomach, then, he’ll stumble around this hellhole until morning.

“Ha! You won’t even last two minutes out there!” That’s what Naobito Zenin, the head of the clan said to him when he left. “Only two things await you when you get out of here, either you’ll die hungry or a cursed spirit will get to you first — either way, you’ll die with your eyes wide open with no one!”

Overrun by his thoughts, Toji doesn’t even notice that he accidentally intruded on a random cockroach and curse-infested alleyway that apparently belonged to some junkie who is now angrily telling him to get lost. “I was just looking for a place to sit down,” Toji scoffs. Weren’t they both bottom feeders in this city? Why was this rancid-smelling meth addict acting like he’s any better than him?

“Well, go sit somewhere else, this place is off-limits!”

It was almost funny how Toji thought that the world beyond the gates of the Zenin estate was any better than the shit show he was born into.

He should have known better than to be enticed by the glitz and glamour of living independently from his abusive family who at least had the decency to feed him maggoty rice from the estate’s second storehouse dedicated to prepare the animals’ food. They also gave him shelter, of course, he’s had to live in the Zenin estate’s shed for a while now since his father discovered he was born useless without an ounce of cursed energy. But at least he was warm, and the termites made him feel less lonely.

He continues on in his aimless quest. The night is still young. There’s plenty of time for self-depreciating introspection.

Hopefully, that grade three cursed spirit that’s been following him around the block for a while now gets to him first before the rain does.

“That guy over there,” your coworker whispers to you from the cash registers. “He’s been there for a while now and he hasn’t ordered anything.”

You look up from your pocketbook, your eyes curiously trained on the rugged looking man whose eyes were downcast, trained on the service water he requested from the counter when he came in. As if he could feel a pair of eyes on him, he looks up, and glances your way for a bit but you quickly hide your face behind your book.

“He kinda looks like trouble, no? Shady too, just look at the scar on his lip…”

“It’s not fair to judge someone like that, Rika-chan,” you whispered to your junior, turning to arrange the menus, painstakingly wiping each one clean with a cloth dampened with sanitizer. A small smirk appears on Toji’s lips at your passive defense of his character and as if to goad you on, he drums his fingertips against the table daring you to say another word. “Anyway, I’ll handle closing the shop tonight. You need to get home since you have class in a few hours.”

That seemed sudden. Rika looks at you funnily before shrugging off her apron in favor of her raincoat. “Well, alright, if you insist. Should I clean up the kitchen at least?”

“I’ll handle it,” you give her a thumbs up, waving her goodbye as she leaves through the backdoor. Now that you’re alone, you could hardly stop yourself from glancing at the mysterious man, and Toji himself wonders if his presence here is starting to turn into a nuisance. You were probably waiting for him to step out so you could close shop for the night but it’s raining hard right now and there are no other places open nearby to take shelter in.

The chair’s feet screeches against the wooden floorboards and you head to the restaurant’s kitchen. Toji stares at your retreating form, looks like he overstayed his welcome. He searches around for a few coins to give to you for your hospitality, of course, it probably doesn’t mean jack shit, but you must have known he didn’t have enough money for a meal when he came in here. You would have realized that immediately. But you allowed him to stay regardless.

You return a couple of minutes later with a bowl miso soup with ginger pork gyoza and shredded cabbages. You set the bowl down in front of him and Toji is thoroughly taken aback, he looks at you dumbfounded. “I don’t have any money,” his voice comes out a little gruffly but you barely flinch at the sharp edge of his tone.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Refilling his water, you explained that while you could have easily stuffed those leftovers back in the freezer, customers wouldn’t want to eat frozen food, so, you decide to heat these items up to give to him instead. “Oh,” Toji answers a little dumbly. “Or you could have thrown them out.” He stares at the sumptuous meal in front of him. Even in the Zenin estate, he never had such good food laid out in front of him before and it was surreal to see a stranger do the things his family should have done for him.

You return to the counter, leaning on your forearms as you engage in light banter with him. “You’re saying I should feed rats over people?” you chuckled, sitting back down, smiling softly when Toji gingerly bringing the bowl of miso soup to his lips, the rich earthy broth warming his throat that he lets out a content sigh.

He smirks at your little remark. “I’m saying you shouldn’t make a habit of feeding strays.” He polishes his soup bowl clean within minutes and you have to remind him to slow down every now and then as you watched him eat ravenously. “You never know when you could get that dainty hand of yours bitten off.”

You blushed pink at that. He was right, being too generous could cost you dearly one day but being the altruistic soul that you are, you’ll probably continue to be graciously selfless despite the risk of being taken advantage of. It’s just how you are as a person who believes that a little kindness can make the world better than it was yesterday. “I…don’t really know about that…whether I get bitten or not by the people I help isn’t really something I can control. The world would be better off if people just learned to be kind to one another.”

Toji hums at your naive countenance, folding his arms over the table. The room is silent for a few minutes save for the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance. “You’re kinda dumb, aren’t ya?”

“And you’re a pessimist,” you answered, quirking an amused eyebrow at him. “Who doesn’t even know how to say thank you.” You stand up to clear out the table, a teasing glint in your eyes as your curious orbs collide.

Toji scoffs, leaning against his seat, crossing his legs. At his reluctance, you shake your head, giggling softly. What an infuriating interesting guy. Toji hears the rushing of tap water from behind the counter and he smiles inwardly. The rain begins to slowly stop and he takes this window of opportunity to leave.

You don’t even try to hide your disappointment when you come back to the dining room only to find it empty, the stranger having left nothing in his wake — not a goodbye, not a thank you, and certainly not his name — except a single rusty five yen coin on the table.

Clang-dong!

“Hello, welcome—“ You stop mid-sentence. Your throat constricting with a mix of emotions, the most dominant one being joy at this happy chance, you’d recognize those sharp dark green eyes anywhere despite only first seeing them a week ago. After all, they looked so dangerously beautiful under the dim light of the dining room’s ceiling lampshade. “—back. Welcome back,” you smiled brightly at Toji.

Toji nods, his hand coming up to cover his lips as he coughs once. “Thanks…ah, right — shit, where is it?” After rummaging around his parachute jacket’s many pockets, he finally takes out his wallet and you look at him, bewildered, when he hands a few hundred yen bills to you. “For last week. Sorry I couldn’t pay you back then.”

“It’s fine.” You take his larger, calloused hand and return the money which Toji responds to by stubbornly placing it on the table.

Toji pinches the bridge of his nose when you playfully return the gesture by rolling it up and placing it in his jacket pocket, buttoning it. “Look, it was real nice of you to treat me back then, but I’m not a charity case, alright? I just wanna pay my dues.”

“Then, a simple ‘thank you’ is enough.” Toji just couldn’t understand you. You have absolutely no reason to be nice to him, but you are. For a moment, he begins to fall into the enticing thought that maybe life outside the Zenin estate won’t be too bad after all if there are people like you still around just waiting at random corners to be found in joyful happenstances such as waiting out a storm at a random family-style restaurant over a heartwarming serving of miso soup with tender pieces of gyoza and cabbage.

Relenting, he smirks at you, unable to figure you out. “Thank you.”

“Anyway, need a table for lunch?” you smiled warmly at him as you lead him to the table he sat in a week ago which you now affectionately refer to as ‘his’ table instead of table number four.

Toji nods following your lead and chuckling when you hand him the menu. “Where’s that thing I had last time?“ he oddly flips through the booklet.

“Oh uh…it’s not on the menu actually, but I could make that for you if you’d like.”

“Sounds good.” Toji hands you back the menu. You are just about to scurry away to the kitchen when he calls out to you. “So, do you have a name or should I just keep referring to you as gyoza girl or something?” Embarrassed at the way your knees seem to become weak at his boyish grin, you have to take a few deep breaths before turning around to face him again. “I’m Toji.”

He doesn’t say his last name. He doesn’t feel the need to anymore now that he’s finally closing the door to his past. You nod, noting how the name suited him. It’s brief but strong, muted but loud in its rhythm. Toji. At that moment, you find it impossible to name a prettier sound. After a few excruciating minutes in the kitchen, you come back out with two bowls of miso soup this time around and you sit down on the chair directly in front of him.

“Y/N.”

Toji repeats the melody of your name in his head. “And how much do I owe ya for this, Y/N?”

You shrugged as the two of you dig in, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you chew the steamed gyoza, joining him as he laughs (well, he’s scoffing more than actually laughing, really), his eyes alight with wonder, when you simply say, “Five yen.”

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yaniluvs · 6 days ago

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by your side 日 ── your boyfriend wakes up, feeling your absence and lost-warmth in the middle of the night.

𓍯 bf!jisung ʚଓ fem!reader ：（ 𝒾 ） 1.7k ── ༯ DRABBLE, domestic fluff, comfort, slight humour, reader deals w/ intimacy trauma, slow-paced, kisses, very cutesy. req. by ml ! ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY. 𖦹ࡇ𖦹

yani's note ˖ ˙ ᰋ and i make a comeback >< when @cosmicalily requested me this, i couldn't not post it right? anything for my bb !!!! thank you so much for requesting hun, hope you like it and feel better !! i'm so sorry for anybody who has gone through something like this, please remember you're so strong. you deserve all the love. you're only healing, and sometimes it's not as quick for everyone. it will get better, definitely. anyway, my break might be coming to an end soon at this point because life is actually better now, kinda, hehe. comments, requests, asks, likes, follows and reblogs are always appreciated ! comment/ask if you want to be added to my mastertag ! happy reading <3

the night was unusually quiet, as if the universe itself had decided to hush the world into stillness. the faint hum of the city outside was softened by the gentle patter of rain against the windows, a rhythmic lullaby that often lulled you into dreams. but tonight, it couldn't. not when your mind was restless, tangled in thoughts you couldn’t untie. you hadn’t meant to disturb the peace of the bed—the warmth of your boyfriend beside you was usually enough to keep the darkness at bay. but something unspoken gnawed at you, an ache too familiar to ignore.

it was nearing 3am when he stirred, his hand instinctively reaching out to the space where you should’ve been. the emptiness startled him awake, his fingers brushing cold sheets instead of your warmth. blinking against the dim light filtering through the curtains, his heart sank when he realized you weren’t there.

the room was bathed in silver moonlight, spilling through the half-open curtains in soft, uneven waves, illuminating the chaos of their shared space. the indent of your body remained on the mattress, a shallow impression in the memory foam, stark and still. jisung’s fingers brushed the cooling fabric, the texture of the duvet suddenly foreign against his fingertips. it was as your absence had stripped the bed of its familiarity, leaving only muted reminders of you—your scent lingering faintly in the air, a whiff of your favorite vanilla and cinnamon moisturiser.

he pushed himself upright, the sheets slipping away from his chest like water pooling to his waist. the air felt sharper without you, slicing through the warmth he’d carried in his sleep. his eyes, still heavy-lidded and bleary, scanned the room, seeking you out instinctively. shadows gathered in the corners, their jagged edges softened by the moonlight. your absence grew louder with every passing second, an ache that started in his chest and crept into the pit of his stomach.

jisung swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his feet meeting the chilled floor. the hardwood creaked beneath him, a sound that might have woken you, coaxing a sleepy protest from you lips. now, it only echoed in the stillness, a reminder of how empty the space felt without you. his hands rubbed his face, chasing away the remnants of sleep as he called you softly, the syllables barely escaping his throat.

then he saw it; a faint glow seeping through the crack of the balcony door.

there you were, silhouetted against the quiet rain. the soft drizzle had dampened the balcony floor, leaving trails of silver glistening in the faint light. you were wrapped in one of his hoodies, the hem brushing against your thighs, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as if shielding yourself from a chill that wasn’t entirely physical.

he walked away from the messy bed silently, the cool floor against his feet grounding him as he padded toward the door. he hesitated for a moment, watching you from behind the glass. the way your shoulders rose and fell, your head tilted slightly as if lost in thought, made his heart ache. he knew—he always knew when something weighed on you. and tonight, it seemed heavier than usual.

sliding the door open, he stepped out. the cool night air greeted him, carrying the faint scent of rain and earth. “couldn’t sleep?” his voice was soft, almost a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile quiet around you.

you startled slightly, your head turning to see him. his eyes, dark with sleep but laced with concern, met yours. “i didn’t mean to wake you,” you murmured, your voice as fragile as the raindrops clinging to the railing.

“you didn’t,” he assured, stepping closer until he was beside you. he didn’t touch you right away, knowing better than to invade your space without invitation. instead, he leaned against the railing, his gaze following yours into the rain-drenched cityscape. “what’s on your mind?”

you hesitated. the words felt too heavy, too tangled. “i don’t know,” you admitted, though you both knew it wasn’t entirely true.

jisung’s lips curved into a faint, understanding smile. “you’re a bad liar, baby,” he said gently, his tone devoid of accusation.

you exhaled a shaky laugh, the sound barely audible. “it’s stupid,” you began, but he shook his head before you could finish.

“if it’s keeping you up at this hour, i wouldn't think it is,” he countered, his voice steady, grounding.

you shifted your weight, fingers brushing against the cool metal of the railing. “sometimes it feels like… like i’m still stuck. like no matter how far i’ve come, there’s still this part of me that's just..” your voice broke, frustration mingling with vulnerability.

jisung’s eyes softened, his heart aching at the raw honesty in your words. he took a step closer, careful and deliberate, his presence warm and steady. “hey,” he murmured, his voice low, soothing. “look at me.”

you turned to him reluctantly, your eyes glistening not with rain but with unshed tears. he reached out slowly, giving you every opportunity to move away, but you didn’t. his fingers brushed against yours, tentative, before he took your hand in his. “you’re not stuck,” he said, his voice firm but tender. “you’re healing. and healing isn’t a straight line. it’s messy and hard, but it’s still progress. you’re still moving forward.”

a tear slipped down your cheek, and jisung caught it with the pad of his thumb, his touch featherlight. “you’ve come so far,” he continued, his gaze unwavering. “and even on the days when it feels like you haven’t, i’ll be right here, reminding you that you have.”

his words unraveled something in you, the knot of tension loosening as you leaned into him. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, his hoodie enveloping you both. the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear was a comfort, a rhythm you could anchor yourself to.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression a mix of exasperation and affection. “don’t apologize,” he said firmly. “not for this. not for feeling. not for anything actually.”

the rain continued its quiet symphony around you, the city a blurred canvas of lights and shadows. the world felt distant, inconsequential, as you stood there wrapped in jisung’s arms. his presence was steady, grounding, as if he were your anchor in a storm.

“i don’t know what i did to deserve you,” you said softly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

jisung laughed quietly, the sound warm and soothing. “you existed,” he said simply, his lips brushing against the crown of your head.

for a while, neither of you spoke. the silence wasn’t heavy, but comforting, a shared understanding that words weren’t always necessary. the rain eased into a gentle drizzle, the air cool and crisp, carrying with it the faintest hint of dawn.

eventually, jisung broke the silence. “come back to bed?” he asked, his voice soft, coaxing. “it feels empty and cold without you.”

you nodded, smiling slightly, letting him guide you back inside. the warmth of the bedroom was a stark contrast to the cool night, and as you slipped beneath the covers, jisung’s arms found your waist again, holding you close.

“we’ll figure it out together,” he murmured against your hair, his voice heavy with sleep but resolute. “always.”

and with him beside you, the world felt a little less heavy, the darkness a little less daunting. you closed your eyes, letting the sound of his breathing and the faint patter of rain lull you into a peace you hadn’t thought possible. for the first time that night, you felt like you could breathe.

the soft warmth of morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in hues of gold and amber. the rain had stopped, leaving the world outside damp and glistening, like a secret freshly unwrapped. you stirred, cocooned in the familiar scent of jisung’s cologne and the lingering traces of sleep. his arms were draped around you, one hand resting against the small of your back, the other tangled in your hair. his steady breaths tickled your neck, a gentle reminder of his presence.

for a moment, you didn’t move, savoring the rare quiet of the morning. the weight of his arm, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, felt like home. slowly, you turned your head to look at him. his face was relaxed in sleep, his lips slightly parted, his lashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks. the sight made your heart swell, a quiet ache of love and gratitude.

as if sensing your gaze, jisung stirred, his hold tightening briefly before his eyes fluttered open. his brown eyes met yours, soft and drowsy, and a slow, lazy smile spread across his face. “good morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep but filled with warmth.

“good morning,” you replied, your voice just as soft. you reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, your fingers lingering against his skin.

he closed his eyes at your touch, leaning into it like a cat seeking affection. “how are you feeling?” he asked, his eyes opening again to search yours.

“better,” you admitted, your lips curving into a small smile. “thanks to you.”

jisung’s smile widened, his dimples appearing. “good,” he said simply, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “that’s all i want.”

you shifted closer, burying your face in the crook of his neck. his skin was warm, and the faint scent of him—a mix of his cologne and something inherently jisung—wrapped around you like a blanket. “i don’t ever want to leave this spot,” you mumbled against his skin.

he chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. “then don’t,” he said, his hand running soothingly up and down your back. “stay here. with me. forever.”

you pulled back just enough to look at him, your eyes meeting his. “forever?” you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

he grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief and sincerity. “forever and then some.”

the two of you stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s warmth, exchanging soft words and lazy smiles. the world outside could wait. in this moment, there was only the two of you, tangled in love and the quiet magic of a new day.

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger

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parkerslatte · 18 days ago

Text

Face Masks and Photographs

Kang Dae-ho x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: fluffy. non-squid game au.

Summary: Y/N and Dae-ho enjoy a relaxing evening in while it rains.

Requested: Yes.

The rain beat down on the window hard and rainwater cascaded down the window, blurring the buildings behind it. Sitting before her mirror, Y/N carefully applied the bright facemask to her skin. It was cool to the touch and sent a pleasurable shiver through her body. The facemask was a bright pink, bringing colour to the dreary day.

As Y/N applied the mask to her cheeks, she caught the eye of Dae-ho in the mirror. His eyes were transfixed upon her as she applied the face mask. An easy smile fell upon her lips at the sight of him. Just seeing Dae-ho always put a smile on Y/N’s face, as it always would. His smile always lit up his whole face. When he smiled, it was impossible not to smile in return.

The covers were bundled up around him as he sat cross legged in the centre of the bed, his body tilted slightly forward to give him a better view of her. It was clear that Dae-ho hadn’t realised yet that Y/N had noticed him staring. Once she finished applying the face mask, Y/N turned around to face Dae-ho. For a brief moment, he looked started, as if her sudden movement had snapped him out of a daydream.

“What are you looking at?” Y/N asked playfully.

Dae-ho gestured around his own face. “How much of that do you have?”

Y/N looked down at the small pot in her hands. “Enough for you if that is what you were going to ask.”

A bashful smile found its way onto Dae-ho’s lips as Y/N stood from the floor with the pot of face mask and a hairband. Dae-ho’s eyes didn’t leave hers and she made her way over to the bed, casually throwing one of her legs over Dae-ho’s lap so she was comfortably situated in his lap. The hand that wasn’t holding onto the pot immediately wrapped around her waist and held onto her tightly, though gently.

Neither of them spoke as Y/N slowly reached for Dae-ho’s unkept hair, and threaded her fingers through it. Dae-ho’s eyes fluttered closed as Y/N lightly scratched his scalp. His body leaned closer to hers, unconsciously seeking more contact Gathering up his hair, Y/N tied a small ponytail atop his head, making sure there were no flyaway hairs across his skin.

She took the pot from Dae-ho’s hands, their fingers brushing and Dae-ho immediately linked them. A soft chuckle left Y/N’s lips.

“I need both hands for this,” Y/N said.

“No you don’t,” Dae-ho said and his arm that was wrapped around her waist slowly moved until he took the pot from her hand. “See? I can hold it.”

“You’re clingy,” said Y/N.

Dae-ho glanced down at the position Y/N had sat herself atop his lap. “So are you.”

“Do you want me to use the last bit of my face mask on you or not?” Y/N questioned.

Despite her teasing tone, a wide smile stretched across Dae-ho’s face in response, his thumb gently gliding across her knuckles. He leaned forward a little, offering his face to Y/N.

She shuffled on his lap, now fully relaxing as she picked up the applicator from the pot and swiped the pink substance over his left cheek. A small flinch caused the mask to spread not only across his cheek but his nose too.

“You didn’t tell me it would be cold!” Dae-ho exclaimed.

“You watched me get it from the refrigerator!” Y/N replied. “Besides, it feels nice when it's colder.” Y/N proceeded to spread the mask on his right cheek.

This time Dae-ho didn’t flinch, instead his body relaxed even more as his gentle movements over her knuckles continued. Y/N remembered when her and Dae-ho began dating, it hadn’t even been two years yet, but she knew for certain that Dae-ho was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Never had she felt as safe as she did when his arms were wrapped around her. When they were wrapped up in one another it was the safest, most comfortable place in the world.

Y/N tried not to notice the way Dae-ho looked at her as she applied the mask. The look in his eyes was so deep, so raw, so…in love. Y/N was sure that before Dae-ho, nobody had ever looked at her that way. With Dae-ho she knew what it felt like to truly be in love with someone, it was a feeling unlike any other.

Dae-ho’s eyes never left Y/N for even a second and she soon found herself laughing nervously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because you’re beautiful,” Dae-ho answered softly.

Pressing her lips together, Y/N repressed a smile as she dropped the applicator back in the pot, now done applying the mask.

“How do I look?” Dae-ho asked, a crooked smile gracing his face.

“Beautiful,” Y/N answered and she swore she could see the faint hint of a blush even through the mask.

Without breaking eye contact, Dae-ho patted the bed next to him until his hand made contact with his phone. Quickly getting up the camera, he snapped a picture of Y/N. She gasped upon the shutter.

“Delete that now!” Y/N explained.

Dae-ho looked at the screen and smiled. The photo was definitely not the most flattering in the world but there was something about the photo that made Y/N smile. Perhaps it was the way she looked so utterly relaxed. Perhaps it was the pure happiness that radiated from her eyes. Y/N already knew the answer. It was the silly smile on her face. A smile that spoke a thousand words.

“No,” Dae-ho protested before locking his phone and tossing it to the side. “Now, what happens now that the mask is applied?”

“Wait until it dries,” Y/N answered.

“I have an idea to pass the time,” Dae-ho muttered as he slowly leaned in.

Before his lips could make contact with hers, Y/N held up her hand so his lips kissed her fingers instead. “We can’t unless we want to smudge it all over our faces.”

Dae-ho sat back, a small pout on his face. “Fine.” He lazily rested his arms around Y/N’s waist. “How long?”

“About ten minutes,” Y/N answered. “And that gives you the perfect opportunity to teach me how to play gonggi properly. I fail at it every time.”

Dae-ho chuckled as Y/N reached for the bedside table and grabbed the small container and pushed it into Dae-ho’s hands. “You promised you’d teach me properly weeks ago and there’s no time like the present!”

An endearing smile spread across Dae-ho’s face as he fiddled with the container in his hands before nodding. Despite Dae-ho typically being good at the game, Y/N noticed the way he didn’t seem to concentrate on it as they played. If she was being completely honest with herself, she wasn’t concentrating on it either. Instead she was more concentrated on her phone where she took not-very-flattering photos of the man in front of her.

It didn’t take long before Dae-ho retaliated, now filling his camera roll with extremely unflattering photos of Y/N. Y/N had mixed feelings about them. One one hand she hated them and wished they would be deleted from both phone and memory. But on the other hand she wanted to keep them as proof of the happiness she was feeling. That joy upon seeing the photos immediately banished the embarrassment as she witnessed the fond smile on Dae-ho’s face as he looked at the photos.

***

The ten minutes seemed to fly by and before long, Y/N and Dae-ho had found themselves back in their bed– faces void of any of the pink face masks. The rain still fell heavily but it was strangely comforting as the couple lay in the warm sheets. Y/N’s head rested upon Dae-ho’s chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat almost making her drift off to sleep. His fingers tangled in her hair as he played with the ends. It was the perfect picture of domesticity.

“I love you,” Dae-ho muttered, breaking the comforting silence.

While moving her head was an effort all on its own, Y/N did so regardless to look into Dae-ho’s eyes. They were shining with pure genuine love. If she were to look at herself through his eyes, she was certain that she would see the same glistening in her eyes.

“I love you too,” Y/N said, leaning up to place a soft kiss at the corner of his lips.

“You missed,” Dae-ho whispered before he surged forward and pressed his lips against Y/N’s.

Her body instantly melted into his, perfectly fitting together as they always would. The kiss was soft and slow, as if they had all the time in the world. Dae-ho’s arms tightened around her body as he slowly began to twist their bodies so Y/N was now laying on the soft bed below him. Y/N’s arms wrapped around his neck, attempting to bring him even closer. Somehow they still weren’t close enough.

The kiss ended for a very brief moment as a bright smile found its way onto each of their faces before they connected once more. A content sigh left Y/N as she continued to revel in the feeling of Dae-ho’s lips on hers. The kisses slowly moved from her lips to her cheek and softly on her jaw.

“Your skin is soft,” Dae-ho muttered against her jaw, his body settling upon hers like a weighted blanket.

“So is yours,” Y/N replied, her fingers pulling out the hairband keeping his hair tied back.

“You should buy more of that face mask,” Dae-ho said, resting his head in the crook of Y/N’s neck, lips ghosting over her skin.

“So you can steal it again,” Y/N replied before yawning.

“So we can share it,” Dae-ho corrected.

“Of course,” Y/N said smiling as her eyelids slowly fell closed. She enjoyed her evening, it was the perfect way to wind down and relax. Typically she would be alone while applying her face masks or any other skin care she used, it relaxed her but never to this point. From the looks of things, it had relaxed Dae-ho too as his breathing became slower and his body became heavier.

Y/N’s hand rested on the back of his head as she slowly tilted her head to press a kiss against his forehead. A small squeeze of her waist and a quick kiss against her neck was the response from Dae-ho before the two slowly drifted into a relaxed, unconscious state– the rain gently cascading down the window.

#squid game #squid game dae ho #kang dae ho #squid game s2 #squid game x reader #squid game dae ho x reader #kang dae ho x reader

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sunnysidevans · 5 months ago

Text

Ain't In California Anymore - T.Owens

Synopsis: After deciding to uproot your life for a change of scenery from San Diego California you decide to take a trauma nurse position in Tornado Alley. You don't expect to survive your first tornado let alone meet the resident cowboy tornado wrangler.

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Nurse!Reader

Warnings: 18+, mentions of extreme weather, lots of flirting - tyler owens is a warning in himself i mean c'mon.

The Request: Hiii :) I was wondering if I could request a Tyler Owen’s story. Where the reader is from California and had to relocate to Oklahoma because of her job in healthcare. But at an event or before going to work, there’s a tornado warning and she’s not sure what to do so Tyler protects her and makes sure she’s safe. But then the next day he visits her at work and asks her out?:)

authors note: to the sweet anon who requested this fic, please please I hope I have put words to your vision. & THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for this request as this is my first one! In the years I've been writing I did not ever expect this. Thank you from the bottom of my heart and please enjoy this fic!! <33

The rain poured as you stood in the middle of San Diego Airport. The waves crashing on top of one another. Your life packed at your side as the announcements continued.

“Flight 214 to Oklahoma has been delayed two additional hours, an F.4 tornado has just landed in tornado alley. More updates to come”.

You sigh and sit back down against the window as the rain continues beating on the glass. Pulling the headphones from your bag and pulling the laptop out, you make yourself comfortable. After an additional six hours the plane was in the sky.

3AM before you would land in what the flight attended referred to as Tornado Alley.

The city was lit with skylights, covered in destruction. The F.4 tornado that landed hours earlier wiped half of the cities apart. You could see cars miles and miles away from where they probably were hours before. The flight attendant smiles as the plane lands, waving as you exited the plane.

“Welcome to Oklahoma” she grins as you follow the crowd out of the terminal. Looking around the airport it looked like nothing happened, everyone continued on their day as the world was in shambles.

Making your way outside you couldn’t believe the amount of debris in the roads. The odds of getting a cab were slim. “New to the area?” a voice says beside you, looking over you smile at the man with a kind smile.

You nod with a sigh, “I am, first few minutes as a matter of fact” he chuckles making his way to you, hand held out. “Well, Welcome to Oklahoma, I’m Javi” you grin, reaching out to shake his hand, “(y/n)”.

He looks you over before speaking again, “my best tip is to just keep watching, I’m sure you’ve been waiting a while, or… I could give you a ride?” he proposes as you smile slightly. “Truly? I don’t want to wait any longer, I start my job in” looking down at your watch you sigh. “Two hours” you chuckle as he nods with a kind smile.

“What brings you to Oklahoma?” he asks, your mind is elsewhere as you see all the destruction that lined the streets. “Hm?" You ask as he asks again, “oh, I needed a change” you say with a smile. He nods continuing down the road in silence. “Where are you from originally?” he asks again, letting curiosity get the best of him.

“San Diego” he nods with a smile, “wow this is gonna be a change for you’ he notes as you chuckle, “totally”. He pulls into the hotel you were staying in, still standing. “Well good news is the hotel is still here” you chuckle, climbing out of the truck.

“Thank you so much for this, this definitely would not have happened if I was in San Diego. Though, you could've kidnapped me or something so” he chucklespulling your luggage from the truck bed.

“It's our southern charm” he grins, handing the bags to you, pulling a card from his back pocket. “Here, if you need anything” you look down at the card.

“Storm Par?” you ask looking back at him as he grins. “We chase tornados, at least to put it in non scientific terms” he smiles as you nod, shoving the card into your wallet. “Is that a normal thing here in Oklahoma?” he grins with a shrug. “There’s a lot of us out here if that's what you mean” he makes his way to his side of the truck.

“Good luck on your first day!” he smiles. You make your way inside waving as he drives off. Maybe Oklahoma wasn’t going to be so bad.

Mercy Hospital Oklahoma City. The letters buzzed as the energy drink dripped condensation on your palms. Walking through the emergency room doors you look around. “You look lost” a voice says with a grin, looking over you smile at the brunette.

“I’m (y/n)” you smile as she gasps, “oh my gosh! The trauma nurse from california!” she grins, holding a hand out to you, “I’m Natasha!” she smiles as you shake her extended hand. “Nice to meet you” she smiles, pulling you along beside her.

“Welcome to the crew, did you get in okay?” you chuckle with a shrug. “Depends on your definition of okay” she gasps as she helps you onto the elevator.

“I’ve only been here” looking down at your watch “for 3 hours, I got maybe an hour of sleep” she gasps. “I’m so sorry! We could’ve pushed back your start time” you shake your head.

“I am used to this being a nurse and all but now I have to adjust to tornados” she waves her hand with a chuckle. “You will get used to that” she grins, knocking on the door. “Just want you to meet our head nurses” the voice on the other end encourages you in. “Maria, this is (y/n), from California” she pulls her glasses off her nose and stands.

“Ah yes, our new trauma nurse” she walks around the desk, holding her hand out to you. “Nice to meet you Ma’am” you grin, shaking her hand.

An Oklahoma ER was so much different than a San Diego one. “How’s it going Cali?!” Natasha grins from her place at the nurses station. Pulling the latex gloves off your hands and tossing them into the trash beside you, you chuckle.

“This is so much different than California” you note, sitting down at the available computer to begin typing in medications. “I’m sure you see so much more there huh?” she asks as you nod. “I worked at a Navy hospital too so I saw so much” she nods as you continue on with typing.

“Ah yeah thats gonna do it, the most you will see here is a farming accident and even then the accident will be weeks old and a farmers wife shoved him into the ED” you chuckle, turning to her.

“Is that so? How about after tornadoes?” you ask as she moves to sit in the chair beside you. “Yes and no. We get a lot of people in sure as the ambo’s bring em but a lot of field nurses too” you nod, handing the next chart to the provider passing by you.

Within hours, beds were clearing until they weren’t and sirens began to wail. “All hands on deck people we have a multi-casualty car accident, multiple patients en route!” Maria yells down the hall as everyone follows after her, multiple ambulances lined the med bay.

This was definitely not California anymore.

The lights from the diner sign buzzed as you shut the engine off the rental car. The dashboard flashing 3am. What was supposed to be an easy first day turned into a busy one. You climb out and make your way inside.

The smell of coffee brought a smile to your lips as you picked a secluded booth and sat down. After ordering with the waitress, you sat back with the daily newspaper,sipping on your coffee.

“Well, I didn’t expect to find you here” you look up at the voice, Javi stands with his hands on his hips. “Well I didn’t expect to see you either” you set the mug of coffee down. “How ya doin?” he asks with hands on his hips, you chuckle.

“Just got my ass kicked on my first day. What are you doing out here at 3am?” you ask as he nods, motioning to sit across from you, nodding he sits down. “Some field work” he notes as you hum. “So, what exactly is it you do?” you ask as he chuckles, smiling at the waitress.

“I study tornadoes, I find ways we can eventually stop them before they cause so much destruction” you nod slowly looking at him "So I chase it, i try to get as close to one as I can" he grins. “I’m sorry what?!” you ask as he laughs.

“I chase em to study em” he notes as he sips his own coffee with a smirk. “Who in their right mind chases tornadoes?!” you exclaim, a truck driver at the bar looking over at you with a snarl. “Crazy folk” Javi replies with a smile.

The waitress smiles and sets the plate of pancakes down in front of you. You nod with furrowed brows, “are you insane?” he laughs with a nod. “I am indeed” you sigh with a shake of your head, eating a piece of the pancake. “So there’s multiple people who chase tornadoes?” The conversation kept falling back to the one thing that fascinated you the most, tornadoes.

“Yep, there’s me and my company and there’s so many more, you will probably come across some in your time here” he reaches over and points to the newspaper on the table.

“That’s tyler owens, he’s out of kansas but he’s been hanging around here a lot lately. He calls himself the tornado wrangler”.

2 weeks.

It was two weeks before you heard the first siren. The local farmers market was always crowded on nice days. You continued browsing through the local fruits and vegetables when the first siren goes off.

Looking up from the fruit you had in hand, you noticed the booth owner on edge. With wide eyes they looked around frantically, you did as well, looking around as the world began to move in slow motion.

The wind chimes on another booth begin to sway. The world stopped and you stood in the middle of the chaos. Around you everyone begins to pick things up quickly and rush into the surrounding buildings.

You stood there as the wind began to scream. You could hear yelling around you but it was nothing compared to the sound of the wind. The sky was almost something out of a movie, looking up the clouds were dark. Something was coming, something bad. “Hey!” you can hear the yelling of one of the vendors.

In slow motion, you look up to the clouds as they opened and the rain began to pour. Blinking, you are stuck there in the middle of the street.

You had no idea how long you were there till you felt hands on your shoulders. “Hey! Hey!” they are shaking you, blinking when you look over. You knew his face.

Tyler Owens.

“Hey, listen to me, we can't stay here” he’s got a hand on your elbow encouraging you towards one of the buildings. The siren is louder and closer. Tyler's eyes shift to behind you and your curious eyes follow.

The tornado and it was moving quickly. His eyes are frantic as he quickly pulls your body into an alley.

Tripping over your feet, your cardigan was heavy on your skin as he looked at you. “I need you to trust me right now okay?” his shirt was heavy to his skin, water dripping down his nose.

The concrete wall was rough against your skin.

You don’t remember when you even made it up against the concrete wall or how the wall of a man was in front of you or how your knuckles were sore from the grip you had on his once plaid shirt.

Your eyes open, looking around frantically as you feel your pulse quicken. Panting you are pushing the hairs off your forehead.

You just survived your first tornado.

The city was quiet. You fall to your knees, continuing to try and catch your breath. “Hey, Hey” you hear his voice again as you begin to sob. How could you be crying right now?

“It’s okay hey” his hand is on your back, rubbing soothing circles on your spine.

“You’re okay” he encourages you to sit back against the wall. You can hear the screams of others, finding their lives uprooted. He sits down in front of you, legs crossed and hands on your own knees as your breathing slowly evens out. “There ya go” his thumb is running over your knee gently in comforting circles, looking over your face.

“Is this your first tornado? “He chuckles as you nod frantically. “Oh shit” the smirk is off his face quickly as he stands, helping you up.

You watch as all of the first responder vehicles are filing in. You noticed the white ram and other Storm Par trucks that follow.

“Tyler!” looking over at the voice, a man is standing at the end of the alley. “Oh thank god!” he yells, grabbing the walkie off his hip and rushing to the two of you.

“Boone!” Tyler meets him halfway, hugging him tightly. Tyler turns back to where you stood, you were gone.

Tyler looks around the alley frantically. He then looks down and finds your badge.

Rushing out of the alley, you frantically look for the Storm Par truck. “Javi!” you yell, rushing to him over all the debris. “(y/n)?!” he meets you halfway, holding a hand out to help you over a pile of what was a vendor booth.

He can see the tears on your face as you pant, gripping his hand tightly. “How can I help?! Do you have first aid in that truck?” He admired your willingness to help but he could also see you were soaking wet and riddled with fear.

“What are you doing out here?” he asks as you shake your head, “there's no time for that, people need help!” you point behind you.

Pulling your soaked cardigan off you quickly push past him to the truck, rummaging through it. “Hey,hey” he is quick to grab your elbow.

You had an open cut on your forehead and a couple scrapes but it was nothing you couldn’t handle.

“Let me help Javi” you whisper, fear in your eyes as he nods slowly. “Okay, okay” he holds his hands up in defense as you begin to move through the debris to find people that need help.

The hospital was overflowing with people. You continue to push through your bag as you smile at the security guard at the door, “mornin steve” he chuckles. “It’s 3pm young lady” you grin, looking over at him with a shrug, “morning for me”. He nods as he sits back in the chair, watching over the ER.

“Cali!” Natasha stands from her chair with a grin. “Oh my god!” she is quick to come around the counter to stop in front of you.

“What happened to you?” with her hands on your chin she is turning your head in multiple directions. “I uh-” you bit your lip, how do you explain this?.

“I got caught in a tornado?” she gasps, grabbing your elbow and pulling you into a room. “You did what?!” She is quick to grab gloves and pull them on. “I froze Nat” you whisper, looking up at her “it came so fast and I must’ve hit my head” you shrug.

She sighs, pulling the band-aid you had on your forehead off. “You don’t need stitches” she tsks, cleaning it gently with an alcohol pad as you wince. “Tyler Owens was there” you mumble as she stops, looking at you “that heart-throb out of kansas?”.

You can’t help the chuckle you let out, nodding. “He helped me, it was really nice of him” she nods. Putting the bandage on your forehead, she pulls the gloves off and tosses them into the trash.

“Unrelated to this” you mention as she crosses her arms with a raise of her brow. “I lost my badge I think” she shakes her head, “we can get you another no problem there”. She smiles, “now let's get you clocked in, we’ve got a busy day!”.

The overhead speaker picked up with a squeak. “Paging (y/n) (y/l/n) to the front desk, paging (y/n)(y/l/n)” you furrow your brows, setting the pen down and looking over at Natasha and James. “What is that about?” you ask, standing from your chair as the two of them shrug.

Steve walks in with a grin, “(y/n)”. Looking over at him, your eyes can't help but to fall to the man beside him.

Pulling the white stetson from his head, Tyler Owens smiles shyly with flowers in his hand and your badge in the other.

“Oooooooo” you snap your head over to Natasha and James with wide eyes. “Sorry to drop in on you like this Ma’am” you choke, looking over at Tyler. His smile grows as you come around the counter. The green scrubs were cute but you were the most beautiful thing he had seen since he saw his first tornado.

“I think I have something that belongs to you” he holds the badge out on the dainty badge reel. You sigh with a smile, looking up at him going to take it from him but he pulls it back.

You scoff, looking up at him, “that belongs to me”. He smirks, shaking his head “nope, you have to ask nicely” he smirks as you groan, pulling him into an exam room and shutting the door.

As you do Natasha and James both sending you thumbs up from the nurses station.

"What gives you the right?” crossing your arms over your chest, he grins. “You have to ask nicely, that's what we do round here city gal” he smirks as your eyes widen. “City girl?” he nods, leaning back against the bed, crossing his leg over the other.

“You don’t know anything about me Owens” he raises a brow, “is that so?” he twirls the badge around his pointer finger. “I know you’re from California, San Diego to be exact” he raises his brow as you sigh. “Javi” you mumble under your breath as he nods. “Correct” he smirks looking at you through his lashes.

“Can I please have my badge back? I have to get back to work” he nods, hands held up in defense, pushing off the bed and walking back to stand in front of you. Looking up at him, you can’t help but to be intoxicated by the smell of his cologne.

He looks down at you, putting the stetson back on his head with a smirk. “Agree to a date, you can have the badge” you scoff. “Excuse me?” he nods, holding the badge between your bodies.

“A date for the badge” you sigh, nodding. “Fine, one” he grins, dropping the badge in your palm. Opening the door, you follow him out, he yells over his shoulder “see you soon California!”

It became traditional for you to sit in the back booth of the diner down the road from the hospital. Every morning you’d sit with the local newspaper. Learning your new home.

It’s how Tyler Owens found you.

He’d been to the hospital every single day to officially ask you out on your date. Except he either missed you or your shift hadn’t started yet. The bell above the door rings as multiple people shuffle through the door.

Looking up from your cup of coffee you see the white stetson. Sinking down in the booth, you attempt to hide yourself with the newspaper.

“I’m telling you lil, you can get it in the air with just a few minor adjustments” you tried not to listen, “there’s nothing wrong with it boone” lily, you assumed replied.

Looking back down at the local events in the paper, the seat across from you shifts and you can hear the air deflate from the plastic cushion.

“California, I’ve been lookin for you” slamming the newspaper down on the table, Tyler can’t help the shit-eating grin that grows on his face. “Tyler” you sigh, sitting up in the seat. “I owe you, no- you owe me a date” he grins.

“First, you know my name is not California” you address as he sits back in the seat, reaching over to grab your unoccupied cup of coffee.

He hums as you continue with a scoff. “Second, you are the one who left me high and dry” he chuckles with a shake of his head, “no ma’am”. You sigh, pulling your mug out of his hand sitting back with it between your palms. “So, when?” you challenge with brows raised.

“Tomorrow, do you work then?” he asks as you shake your head. “I actually have tomorrow off” he grins, “perfect, meet me here at about 7?” he asks as you nod slowly. “7 it is, what should i wear?” he taps his chin gently then grins.

“Casual but whatever you are comfortable in” he smiles, standing from the booth and tipping his hat towards you. The group of his friends hoot and holler as he makes his way back to them.

“That boy seems really into you” Jo, the waitress grins as she pours your cup of coffee. “Is that so?” you ask as she nods, “my husband was the same way, billy absolutely did not give up” she smiles sadly.

“Am I crazy?” you ask her as she shakes her head, “nowhere close sweetheart” she pats the top of your head as she approaches their table. You watch as the group continues to talk among themselves, ordering with Jo and making her laugh.

You watched the clock all day long. Chewing your lip, you look at Jo, standing in the diner. “Is it too much?” you ask, nervously picking at the blouse you chose to wear. She chuckles, shaking her head with a soft smile. “You look beautiful honey” she reaches over to take your hand, “try and have fun okay? You never know” she squeezes your hand gently.

Nodding you smile at her, “thank you for everything” she grins. At almost 7 on the dot the red Dodge Ram pulled into the parking lot of the diner. You smile from the steps, standing in the outfit you chose.

He grins, climbing out of the truck. Tyler opted for a pale blue button up and a brown stetson opposed to the white. “No white hat today?” you tilt your head as he approaches you, small bouquet of flowers in hand. You look down at them first with a small smile. “Thought I’d spice it up for ya” he winks handing the bouquet over to you.

“For you California” you smile, taking them from his outstretched hand. “They’re beautiful,” he smiles, holding his arm out towards you. “So are you” he walks you to the truck, opening the door to help you inside.

Looking around the truck, you admire everything from the center console to the straps for seat belts. Tyler shuts the door after you, making his way around and climbing into the driver seat.

Sitting back in the seat you can’t help but let Jo’s words play in your mind. She stands in the window with a smile, watching as the truck pulls out the parking lot.

The stars lit up the night sky of Oklahoma. Sitting on the top of tyler's truck, eyes glued to the sky. “What brought you to Oklahoma?” His voice is soft as he continues to eat the slice of pie he brought.

“A position opened for a trauma nurse and truthfully I was over the city life” you sigh, turning to face him with a shy smile. “Trauma nurse huh?” he asks, offering you a piece of the pie on the fork. Taking the fork, you eat the piece and nod. “I was a Trauma nurse at a Navy hospital in San Diego” handing the fork back over to him, he looked at you with a small smile.

“I see,” he nods, going back to the pie. “Why do you wrangle tornadoes?” you ask as he chuckles softly. “When I was about eight years old, I saw my first one,” he continued, picking at the pie crust, looking back up at you. “It was beautiful. Sounds crazy I’m sure but I wanted to know more” he admits, looking back out to the setting sun. “So, you went and learned more?” you ask as he nods with a chuckle.

“I started college, never finished, found the thrill much more fun than a textbook” he looks over at you with a smile. The setting sun made his green eyes almost greener.

“You may have to take me someday,” you admit, leaning against him gently. “This mean you’re sticking around Cali?” he grins, looking down at you.

You nod slowly, “yeah, yeah I think I might be around for a while” you look up at him with a smile.

Walking through the ED door, you smile, passing by Steve. He grins, “good mornin young lady” he tips his hat as you wave. It had been two months since you landed in Oklahoma. Natasha smirks from the nurses station, arms across her chest with. “Hello to you too” you reply walking past the nurses station towards the locker room.

After setting your things inside your locker, you make your way back to the nurses station. “Something came for you” James grumbles from his seat, sipping on what you could guess was his second red bull of the day.

“Oh?” Natasha smirks as she holds the vase of wildflowers out to you. You smile, taking them from her to gently set down to read the card:

“To Cali,

If you feel it, Chase it. We can chase it anytime. Glad you are staying for a while ;)

Tyler xo”

You can’t help but laugh. The two of your friends look over as you grin, laughing harder. “They’re from Tyler” Natasha smirks with raised brow.

“I think you’ve got yourself a boyfriend” you chuckle, shoving the card back into the flowers.

Maybe Oklahoma wasn’t going to be that bad.

as always, likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed! please don't steal any of my work or repost on anyother platforms.

If you enjoyed this fic you can find many more in my Library which is

here.

#glen powell #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens x y/n #twisters 2024 #twisters movie #twisters fanfic

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amirasainz · 3 months ago

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Can you do driver reader, that is one of the driver that crashes during the Brazil race and causes a red flag. Can she be hurt (broken arm or smth)

I love your blog so much🤌🔥

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

Rain

The sound of rain drummed steadily against the asphalt, creating a chaotic symphony that echoed throughout the Interlagos circuit. It was the Brazilian Grand Prix, and the atmosphere was electric, charged with anticipation and anxiety. Yn, the first female driver for RedBull, sat in her car on the grid, heart racing, fingers tapping nervously against the steering wheel. She glanced at the wet track ahead and could feel the tension in the air, punctuated by the distant rumble of thunder.

“Okay, Yn, focus,” her race engineer JD's voice crackled through the radio, breaking her concentration. “It’s going to be tricky out there. We’ve already seen a couple of red flags, and the conditions are only getting worse. Just take it slow, especially in the first few laps.”

“Got it, JD. I’m just going to keep my head down and stay out of trouble,” she replied, trying to mask the nerves creeping into her voice.

“Remember, we’re in it for the long game. You’re in second, just behind Max. Let’s see how it plays out, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be careful. Thanks!” She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. The lights went out, and she surged forward, gripping the wheel tightly as she navigated the treacherous turns.

The rain poured relentlessly, causing visibility to plummet. The roar of engines mixed with the sound of rain, creating an overwhelming cacophony. As they completed the first lap, Yn found herself trailing closely behind Max. The two Red Bull cars danced across the slick track, carving their paths through the rain.

“Good job, Yn. Keep up with Max,” JD encouraged as she skillfully maneuvered her way through the corners.

But the rain was unforgiving. A few laps later, a sudden jolt of loss of traction sent her heart into her throat.

“JD! I’m slipping!” she shouted, trying to regain control of the car.

“Stay calm, Yn! Just counter-steer!” JD’s voice was urgent, but Yn could feel the tires struggling for grip on the waterlogged track. Suddenly, the car spun wildly, and before she knew it, her heart sank as the barriers rushed toward her.

BANG!

The impact reverberated throughout her body, and her vision blurred. The world outside turned chaotic; sirens blared, and officials waved red flags frantically.

************************************************

In the hospital, Yn was conscious but barely coherent. Her body ached, and she felt detached from reality as the medical staff worked quickly around her. She heard snippets of conversation, the beeping of machines, and the distant sounds of the race still going on outside.

Meanwhile, the other drivers were huddled in the waiting room, anxiety etched on their faces. Lando paced back and forth, glancing toward the door every few seconds.

“Why isn’t there any news yet?” he asked, running a hand through his damp hair.

“They’re probably just being thorough,” George said, trying to keep his tone light, though his worry was evident. “She’s tough. She’ll pull through.”

“Yeah, but she’s only eighteen,” Carlos added, looking serious. “It shouldn’t have happened. She was doing so well.”

“Max is taking it hard,” Charles mentioned, nodding toward the corner where Max sat silently, his gaze fixed on the floor.

Just then, the door swung open, and a doctor stepped out. “You’re here for Yn Ln, right? She’s stable, but she’s in pretty bad shape. Five broken ribs and a concussion. She’s asleep right now but is being monitored closely. We’ll let you in shortly.”

The relief was palpable, but worry still clouded the room. They exchanged glances, each trying to mask their fear for their young friend and competitor.

***************************************************

After what felt like an eternity, they were finally allowed to see her. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the air as they entered the dimly lit room. Yn lay in the hospital bed, her face pale but peaceful, a tangle of wires and machines surrounding her. Flowers adorned the table next to her, a bouquet of vibrant blooms brightening the otherwise stark room.

“Look at her,” Lando whispered, stepping forward. “She looks so small.”

“She’s a fighter,” Max said quietly, his eyes glistening. He stepped closer to the bed, placing a hand on the railing. “I should have told her to back off. I should have been more careful.”

“You can’t blame yourself, Max,” Carlos said gently, joining him. “The conditions were terrible.”

George stepped up, looking around. “We should leave her something. Something to remind her we’re all here for her.”

They began placing little tokens around her bedside: a signed card from Lando, a miniature trophy from George, a chilli plushie from Carlos.

“Hey, Yn,” Charles said softly, leaning down so his face was closer to hers. “We’re all here. Just take your time to heal, okay?” Charles moved a bit to the left, placing the flowers with the rest of the things.

Then, Ollie, Yn’s bets friend and partner in crime, stepped forward, his expression softening. He took her hand gently, brushing back a stray hair from her forehead. “You’re going to be alright. Just rest, and we’ll be right here when you wake up.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment as emotion washed over him.

A moment of silence fell over them as they stood vigil by her bedside. The beeping of the machines was a constant reminder of her fragility, but they knew she was strong.

“Can you believe she’s just eighteen and already racing with us?” Lando finally broke the silence, trying to lighten the mood. “I can’t even imagine what I was doing at that age.”

“Probably playing video games,” Ollie teased lightly, earning a chuckle from the others despite the somber atmosphere.

“She’s got so much talent,” Carlos said, glancing back at Yn. “And she’s got all of us rooting for her. That’s what matters.”

Max nodded, his gaze still locked on Yn. “She’s going to bounce back. I believe that.”

The hours passed slowly, filled with whispered conversations and laughter tinged with worry as they reminisced about the race and their shared moments on the track. They each took turns sharing stories, hoping to fill the room with positivity, so Yn could feel the love surrounding her.

Finally, as the night wore on, exhaustion crept in. One by one, they began to drift off, still seated in their chairs, leaving her surrounded by the warmth of friendship, waiting for her to wake up.

****************************************************

As the first light of dawn broke through the clouds, illuminating the hospital room with a gentle glow, Yn stirred slightly in her sleep. The sound of soft murmurs and familiar laughter filtered through her consciousness.

“Look! I think she’s waking up!” George exclaimed softly, shaking Lando awake.

Max leaned forward, his eyes brightening. “Yn, can you hear us?”

With a small groan, Yn blinked open her eyes, squinting at the faces around her. “Ollie?” she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes! I'm here,buba! We’re here! You’re safe,” Ollie said, his eyes widening with relief, taking her hand in his, softly stroking her hair from her face.

“Hey, don’t try to move too much, petite,” Charles advised, noticing her attempt to sit up. “You’ve had a rough night.”

“What happened?” she asked, her voice shaky.

“You crashed,” Lando said, trying to keep his tone light. “But you’re tough. You’ve got some broken ribs and a concussion, but you’ll be back on track before you know it.”

Yn closed her eyes for a moment, trying to process everything. “I remember slipping… and then nothing.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now,” Carlos reassured her. “We’ve all been waiting for you to wake up. You scared us, hermana.”

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as the reality of her situation washed over her. “I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to keep up.”

Max stepped forward, his expression softening. “You did great, Yn. You’re going to come back from this even stronger.”

“Yeah, and we’ll all be right behind you,” George added, his voice filled with sincerity.

The warmth of their presence surrounded her, giving her the strength she needed. “Thank you, guys. I—I really appreciate it.”

“Rest now,” Ollie said, squeezing her hand gently. “We’ll be here when you wake up again.”

And as Yn drifted back into a peaceful sleep, she felt the undeniable bond of her paddock family.

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #driver!reader #xoxo babygirl 💋#max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #carlos sainz x reader #george russell x reader #oliver bearman x reader #brazil #bazil gp #são paulo 2024

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luveline · 8 months ago

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Hiiiiii!!!!!!! I recently got back into criminal minds and devoured all ur hotch fics like a MANIAC (you write. So unbelievably well. Im also in love w ur tasm peter stuff, you are just such a good writer thru and thru) and that one request where Jack calls reader mom for the first time really stuck w me so I was wondering if maybe I could request smth of the opposite? Like not-so-single mom!reader and hotch have been dating for a while and her lil girl calls him dad for the first time :3 🖤🖤

thank you for requesting! 💌 —your daughter calls Hotch dad for the first time. fem, 2k

“Come in, come in!” Hotch says, the door held ajar by his arm, forcing you to squeeze in and save the heat. “Quickly, honey, please, get out of the rain.”

Sarah bursts in through the door and away from the rain, her vinyl coat covered in raindrops, her boots wet with mud. “Aaron!” she says, pulling it into something softened and excited at once, though her ‘r’s are weak, closer to ‘w’s. “I missed you.” She jumps from one foot to the other.

He makes sure you’re safely inside before he abandons you. It’s not very kind to you, but he can’t help himself. “Sarah,” he says, without your daughter’s sweetness but heavily fond, “I missed you more, honey. How many days has it been?”

“Four!” she says, holding up four fingers as Hotch grabs her by the waist.

He doesn’t mind her wet coat, working an arm around and beneath her to shuck off her muddy shoes. They topple to the ground to unveil damp socks.

“Oh, no, your socks are wet. I did all the laundry while we were waiting, I have some warm ones for you in the dryer. Should we get you out of this coat?”

“Where’s Jack?” you ask.

“Eating. He was starving, couldn’t wait.”

You kick your shoes off and gather them with Sarah’s to line up by the door. Hotch takes off Sarah’s coat with some one-armed manoeuvring, aware of her smiley gaze following his every move.

“I,” you say, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek, cold lips to his rough skin, “am gonna go to the toilet really quickly. Hi, handsome.”

He savours your kiss and watches you go. He owes you a better greeting, he missed you just as much as he missed your girl. For now, he wipes the cold from Sarah’s cheeks and stations her comfortably on his navel.

He loves her like his own. He’s privileged to get the opportunity, and it’s hard not to feel that low level of awe whenever she’s around, because she loves him the same way. Sarah waits for him to smile before she wraps her arms around his neck, long enough to twine her fingers in the short hair she finds there.

It’s funny to love someone you had no hand in bringing into the world, but no less real. He’d do anything for Sarah. I miss you doesn’t cover it, but it’s a start. “I missed you,” he murmurs, not well-versed in baby talk but always willing to try for his kids. “It’s so nice to see you. Jack missed you too, should we go see him? I can change your socks.”

He ushers her back enough to see her. She has such loving eyes, not shy at all as she nods her head. “Can you make crackers?”

He beams. “Oooh, yes. Crackers and cheese and apple slices, I know what you want, honey. It’s ready for you in the kitchen.”

Things weren’t easy at first for either you nor Hotch. He works too much, and you both have priorities that can’t be shifted, but the connection between you was easy. Love, undoubtedly, pretty much the moment you met, even if it scared him. He never thought he’d get a second chance and he’s not sure you thought you’d find yours either, and yet loving you has been as helpless as loving your daughter. He doesn’t have a choice and he doesn’t want one.

In this time, you’ve found routine. He’s introduced the idea of moving in together and you’re excited for it, though concrete plans haven’t been laid. There’s a lot of questions and no need to rush into answering them yet. He has no intentions of letting you go now —Hotch will do anything it takes to keep his small family.

Today, right now, that’s crackers.

“Sarah!” Jack says when he sees them, jumping off of his chair to climb on top of it. He holds his hands out and Hotch leans down with a loving laugh to let his son hug her. “You’re back!”

“I’m back,” she agrees.

“Do you want some of my sandwiches? Daddy made me two.”

“Yes!” she says, wiggling to be put down and given what he’s promising.

Hotch fights to take her to the sink and wash her little hands, to her horror and whining. He says, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you gotta wash your hands before you eat.”

He puts her in her own chair, and it is Sarah’s chair, outfitted with a big pillow so she can see the table and marked by a pink star sticker, putting a placemat in front of her. Jack quickly pushes one of his sandwiches towards her. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Jackers,” she says.

Hotch smiles. Despite their different interests and ages, they’re quick to get along.

He shouldn’t pry while you’re in the bathroom, but he worries about you. “Honey?” he calls up the stairs.

“I’m just changing!”

“Yeah? Can you bring some socks for Sarah, please?”

You shout back something incomprehensible. He returns to the kitchen, where Sarah looks over the chair with pleading eyes and asks, “Crackers?” a piece of lettuce stuck to her chin.

“Ah,” he says showfully, turning to the fridge to grab the plate of crackers, sliced cheese, and apples he’d Saran wrapped an hour ago. He peels off the wrapping and places it in front of her. “Here, sweetheart. Do you want anything else? Maybe some chips?”

She laughs and grabs a piece of apple without answering him.

“What about you, sweetheart? Drink?” he asks Jack.

“Yes please, daddy.”

Hotch makes Jack a cup of orange juice and Sarah a sippy cup, hers diluted some with water. He places them down in front of the kids, crouching between their chairs, intending to stay and chat. “How’s that?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to listen for your light footsteps on the stairs.

“Thanks, daddy,” Jack says.

“Thank you, daddy,” Sarah echoes, reaching for him. Hotch offers his hand, startled, not quick enough to hide it. She doesn’t pay any mind to his expression, pleased to have her hand held and her big plastic plate of crackers to munch on.

“Why’d you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” you ask, passing him Sarah’s socks, and rounding the table to stand by Jack's other side. “Hi,” you add, ruffling Jack’s hair, “look at you, gorgeous, you got your hair cut.”

Hotch rubs Sarah’s knuckles, trying to phrase it, not sure how to tell you with the kids still there. Will Sarah feel embarrassed if he brings it up so swiftly? Will she feel like she’s done something wrong? Will you?

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He decides to present you with the situation. He’s not manipulative, but clever. “Mommy got your socks, too. Can we take these cold ones off, is that okay?”

“Yes, please,” Sarah says.

You watch in confusion. Hotch gives you a quick look. Trust me for a second.

He eases the socks off of her feet, laughs when she laughs at his tickling, even if he’s not quite sure how to feel. Happy, he gives her toes a squeeze and bunches a sock up to pull it over her heel and up to her ankle. “One,” he says, repeating the process with the same tenderness. “Two. There we go, all warm again, Sarah.”

“Thanks, daddy.”

You breathe in.

Sarah puts some cheese on a cracker and offers it to Hotch, who eats it while you summon him away with silent parent talk. He kisses her forehead and wipes it clean as he goes.

“Did she do that when I was upstairs?” you ask quietly.

Hotch knows you. Loves you, but knows you intrinsically. He knows just by looking at you that you’re happy, but you’re worried about something, and it’s not hard to guess what it is: he might not want Sarah to call him daddy, and telling her not to might break her heart, and yours too.

“She did.”

“She’s never… expressed that interest to me.”

“Sometimes they think about things more than we know.” Jack still surprises him as he did when he was a toddler.

“She just loves you,” you say.

“I love her. She can call me whatever she wants to.”

You hold his wrist, taking a step closer to him. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” He murmurs now you’re close, ducking his head to yours, two halves of the same heart looking at one another’s hands. “I love her more than anything in the world. I want to make her crackers for the rest of my life.” Hotch puts his index finger to the soft skin under your chin. “Maybe by tomorrow she’ll forget she called me daddy and she’ll never say it again, but… I want her to. Is that okay?” he asks.

You lean up to kiss him and you nod into his lips, which makes it hard but not impossible to kiss back. “She loves you so much,” you say quietly. You’d only wanted a quick peck.

He might’ve said he loves her more than anything, but there’s a level on which he holds her and Jack where you sit too. He loves you. You made Sarah who she is all by yourself, and you’re so lovable standing in his reach. You’re perfect.

Maybe he’s feeling sweet because Sarah called him daddy.

“I think Jack confused her,” he says.

“Maybe. You are, you know, her dad. You do everything a dad would.”

Hotch slots his leg between yours and leans back to force you into his favourite kind of hug. You laugh slowly, hug the same, your arms sliding up over his shoulders to wrap behind his head, your hand cupping his hair.

He closes his eyes and feels your waist.

“You don’t have to worry,” he says.

“I don’t worry about you and Sarah, I know you love her. I guess I just worry about us. Not that you don’t love me, Aaron.”

“Big changes,” he guesses in a whisper.

“Big changes.”

He encourages you away to hold your face. He hopes that waiting with you in quiet for a while can explain it better than words.

Your shoulders finally relax.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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reiding-writing · 6 days ago

Note

hi. I have been reading all your criminal minds stuff and I just LOVE IT!!! Anyway, my request is a cold!reader x Spencer, were reader gets hurt pretty badly (like veeeery badly) and he saves her. Keep writing, you got talent there!

CRACKED ICE — SPENCER REID!

a foot chase goes awry when a shot takes you down. spencer makes sure you’re alive enough to make it to the hospital.

spencer x cold reader | 2.4k | angst | cold!reader masterlist.

main masterlist.

WARNINGS | reader gets critically shot, unsub also gets shot but not badly, lots of blood mentions

a/n — thank you <333 i need to write more angst for this series i think

The air was thick with the scent of gasoline and rainwater, the streets slick with puddles reflecting the dim streetlights. Sirens wailed in the distance as your boots slapped against the wet pavement.

You were closing in on the unsub now, your breath ragged but controlled, each step pushing you further into the chaos that had erupted only moments ago. The rest of the team was scattered behind you, covering different angles, but you were in the lead.

“Team, status!” you barked into your comm as you rounded a corner, hoping to catch a glimpse of your target.

“No visual,” came JJ’s voice, breathless but steady. “He’s fast—too fast. We need to get him before he gets out.”

You glanced ahead. So many side streets, perfect for a man who knew the area. But you wouldn’t let him get away. Not this time.

“Keep looking,” you ordered, even as you sprinted forward, the adrenaline pumping faster than your legs could keep up with.

Without waiting for confirmation, you veered left, cutting through a narrow alley that wound its way between two old brick buildings. The sky overhead was clouded with the weight of an impending storm, and it was only a matter of time before the rain began to fall again.

Your fingers brushed the side of your gun, just a touch, ensuring it was secured in its holster. You couldn’t afford to hesitate.

The alley narrowed as you sprinted deeper, the sound of footsteps behind you fading as you focused on the task at hand. And then, just ahead, you spotted him.

The unsub.

A tall, lanky figure darted from one shadow to the next, the barrel of a gun glinting briefly as he moved. You had to act fast. You skidded to a stop, pressing your back against the wall of the building to the right, silent and still. You could hear his labored breathing now, closer than ever.

“FBI! Drop your weapon!” you shouted, your voice cutting through the silence.

For a heartbeat, there was nothing but the rain. Then, a flicker of movement.

The unsub was turning, eyes wide with panic. You knew he had a gun, but you didn’t hesitate. You raised your own weapon, fingers tight on the trigger. He was cornered now. There was no escape.

But then, in a desperate last-ditch effort, he spun, his gun coming up in a smooth motion—too fast, too practiced.

The first shot rang out, and you barely had time to register the impact before the world seemed to slow. Pain. White-hot, jagged pain shot up your leg, and for a brief moment, all you could do was stare at the blood blooming through your pants.

You hit the ground hard, knees slamming into the asphalt, but your finger squeezed the trigger reflexively, sending a burst of fire at the unsub. The recoil was a blur, but you saw the man stumble, his shoulder jerking as the bullet grazed him. He stumbled back against the wall, clutching at his arm with a howl of pain.

Your breath was ragged now, your focus on him, not the searing pain in your leg. You pushed yourself to your feet, gritting your teeth as you made the effort to stagger toward him. The alley was spinning slightly, the walls closing in around you as dizziness swept over you. But you weren’t done yet. You had a job to do.

“Hands in the air!” you shouted, even though the words came out slurred. You were close now, so close. The unsub was on his knees, clutching his arm, but his gun was still gripped tightly in his other hand.

“Don’t make me shoot you again.” you warned, your voice growing hoarse as you approached. Your fingers were trembling now, the pain too much to ignore, but you had to finish this. Had to cuff him.

You took another step forward, but that’s when your leg finally gave out. A sharp cry tore from your throat as your knees buckled beneath you, and you crumpled to the ground in a heap, the world spinning faster now.

The unsub—he was moving again, but you were too weak to stop him. You blinked hard, trying to clear your vision, but it was no use. Blood was pooling beneath you now, the sharp taste of metal in the air as your vision blurred at the edges.

The sound of pounding feet grew louder, and then familiar voices cut through the haze.

“Shots fired! There’s an Agent down!” Morgan’s voice was sharp with urgency. “Over here!”

You blinked up at the blurry shapes of your teammates rushing into the alley. Morgan went straight for the unsub, forcing him onto his stomach to secure the cuffs. But Spencer ignored the scene entirely, his focus laser-sharp as he dropped to his knees beside you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice tight. His hands hovered uncertainly for a moment before he pressed them against your thigh, trying to stem the bleeding. “Stay with me, okay?”

“Reid,” you muttered, your voice strained but laced with sarcasm. “You’re ignoring your arrest quota.”

He didn’t rise to the bait. His jaw was clenched, his normally steady hands trembling slightly as he worked. "You’re losing too much blood," he said, more to himself than to you. “I need to—hold on—“

He pulled off his jacket, looping it tightly around your thigh just above the wound. The pressure made you hiss in pain, but he didn’t falter. “This is going to hurt,” he warned, twisting the fabric to form a makeshift tourniquet.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” you bit out, your tone dry despite the agony.

“Keep talking,” he said, glancing up at you briefly. “Sarcasm’s good. Means you’re still with me,”

“Spencer Reid,” you said, pausing to suck in a shallow breath. “Master of the obvious and amateur tourniquet maker. Truly a man of many talents.”

His lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile. “You’re going to be fine,” he said, more firmly this time. “The ambulance is on its way,”

“Just let me bleed out,” you muttered, blinking rapidly to stave off the encroaching darkness. “Better that that another stupid hospital.”

Spencer’s expression tightened. “Stop that. You need to stay awake.”

“Your concern is cute, but there are more important things at hand here,” you murmured.

“Not right now,” he snapped, though his voice cracked slightly on the words. His hands pressed harder against your leg, trying to slow the bleeding. “You’re going to make it. Do you hear me?”

You swallowed hard, the fight to stay conscious growing harder with every passing second. “Fuck—“ You take as deep of a breath as you can manage. “Go, fucking cuff the guy already, dig your finger into his bullet hole if that makes you feel better.”

“I’m staying here,” Spencer stutters out a breath of his own, hands still applying pressure against your leg, fingers saturated red.

You snorted, despite the pain, trying to focus on something—anything other than the pounding in your leg. “I didn’t just get shot for you to not arrest this guy, Reid.”

Spencer’s brow furrowed. “I’m not letting you bleed out on me,” he muttered under his breath, his voice tight with concern.

His fingers were trembling slightly, but he kept his focus, muttering to himself about the importance of stopping the blood flow, keeping you conscious, keeping you alive.

“You can’t just… you can’t just ignore the guy,” you protested, even as your head swam and your vision darkened. “He’s still there…”

“Morgan’s handling it,” Spencer interrupted, his voice firm now. “And you’re not going anywhere until I make sure you’re stable. Do you hear me?”

You tried to nod, but it came out more like a half-hearted shake of your head. The world around you was spinning, the sounds of the city fading into the background.

You heard Morgan’s voice in the distance, barking orders as he secured the unsub. JJ was likely talking to the EMTs, telling them to hurry.

And all you could do was lay there, helpless, staring up at Spencer’s face. His wide, concerned eyes locked on yours as he hovered over you, applying pressure to your wound with shaky hands.

“I’m not dying, Spence,” you muttered, your voice thick with exhaustion. “I just… need a second. Just… a second.”

“Don’t close your eyes.”

But you do, and then you don’t have the energy to open them again.

—

The room was quiet except for the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air, mingling with the lingering smell of coffee from the cup sitting untouched on the small tray table by your bed.

When you stirred, the first thing you noticed was the heavy ache in your leg, a deep, throbbing pain that felt like it had settled in your bones. The second was the weight on your hand—warm, steady, and grounding. You blinked, your eyes adjusting to the pale morning light filtering through the partially drawn curtains.

Spencer was slouched in a chair beside your bed, his lanky frame folded awkwardly into the too-small seat.

His head was tilted forward, soft brown curls falling over his forehead, and his hand rested lightly over yours. His jacket was draped over the back of the chair, his tie loosened, and the faint shadow of stubble lined his jaw. He looked exhausted, but even in sleep, his grip on your hand didn’t falter.

You shifted slightly, wincing at the sharp pang in your leg. The movement must have been enough to wake him because his eyes fluttered open, bleary and unfocused for a moment before they locked onto yours. Relief flooded his face in an instant.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice raspy from sleep and tinged with something you couldn’t quite place—concern, maybe, or perhaps guilt.

“Unfortunately,” you croaked, your throat dry. You glanced at the IV drip hooked to your arm and the bandages wrapped tightly around your thigh. “Looks like I survived.”

Spencer leaned forward, his hand tightening around yours. “Barely. You lost a lot of blood. If we’d been a few minutes slower—”

“But you weren’t,” you interrupted, your voice firm despite the lingering haze of fatigue. “You got me here. That’s what matters.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, his brows furrowing. “You scared the hell out of me,” he admitted quietly. “When you passed out, I thought—” He cut himself off, shaking his head as if trying to dispel the memory. “I thought we were going to lose you,”

You offered him a faint smirk, trying to inject some levity into the moment. “It takes more than a bullet to get rid of me, Reid. You should know that by now.”

His lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile breaking through his serious expression. “I do. But still…” He glanced down at your hand, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “You need to stop putting yourself in these situations,”

“Occupational hazard,” you replied, shrugging as best as you could while lying flat on your back. “Comes with the badge.”

Spencer didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning your face as if to reassure himself that you were really okay. “The unsub’s in custody,” he said after a moment. “Morgan and Rossi handled it. He’s not going anywhere,”

“Good,” you said, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “At least it wasn’t for nothing.”

“It wasn’t,” Spencer agreed. His voice softened, and he added, almost to himself, “But you scared me. I don’t want to go through that again.”

You met his gaze, the raw emotion in his eyes catching you off guard. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice quieter now.

“I know,” he interrupted gently. “And I know you’ll probably do it again if it means saving someone else. But just—be careful, okay? Please?”

The vulnerability in his words made your chest tighten, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the right words. Instead, you gave his hand a light squeeze, letting the silence speak for you.

After a moment, Spencer cleared his throat, his usual awkwardness returning as he shifted in his chair. “I brought you some books,” he said, gesturing to a small stack on the table beside your bed. “Thought you might want something to do while you recover.”

You glanced at the titles—an eclectic mix of crime novels, classic literature, and even a few puzzle books. “You think of everything, don’t you?”

He shrugged, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. “I just wanted to make sure you had what you needed.”

You smiled, genuinely this time, and for the first time since waking up, the weight of the past day felt just a little lighter. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he replied, his voice soft but steady.

The two of you sat in companionable silence after that, the chaos of the previous night a distant memory as the morning light spilled into the room. For now, you were safe. And that was enough.

#cold!reader ᝰ.ᐟ #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #mgg #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst

413 notes · View notes

rootedinrevisions · 1 month ago

Text

Too Late

SUMMARY: Tyler is forced to choose between the career he loves and the woman he loves. After leaving for a chase after a fight with his girlfriend, Tyler's world spirals into chaos. He struggles to balance is job with the life he wants. Both you and Tyler are forced to confront what you're willing to sacrifice for love and whether there's still time to fix what's been damaged.

A/N: Thank you to the person who sent this request in! I apologize that it's taken me so long to get it written. Work kept getting in the way and then I was struggling with writer's block. And then I started writing again but it was mostly Glen himself and I was struggling to finish this. I hope it's worth the wait! I'm working to get requests done as I have time and the inspiration is flowing! Hope you enjoy! xx

THERE WILL BE A PART 2 COMING TO THIS! because for some reason it's impossible for me to write angst and leave it at that.

WARNINGS: None, just a lot of heart-shattering angst. This one made me cry while writing it, so be prepared!

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The hum of the television filled the living room, a soft background noise to the steady rhythm of Tyler’s breathing. His arm draped lazily over your shoulders, his hand resting against your collarbone, warm and reassuring. You leaned into him, your legs tucked under you, savoring the rare stillness of the moment.

Tyler had been home for twelve hours, and for ten of them, he’d been passed out in your bed, utterly spent after a grueling two-week storm chase. You’d stayed up waiting for him to walk through the door last night, running on caffeine and the sheer anticipation of seeing him again. When he finally stumbled in, soaked to the bone and bone-tired, you didn’t mind his muttered apologies for being late or the faint smell of rain that clung to him. You were just happy he was home.

Now, as he held you on the couch, his thumb absentmindedly tracing patterns against your skin, you allowed yourself to breathe. It was these quiet moments that made all the waiting, all the worry, worth it.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Tyler murmured, his voice husky from sleep. He shifted slightly, his head tilting toward you, those familiar brown eyes heavy-lidded but focused entirely on you.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” you admitted softly, your fingers toying with the hem of his T-shirt. “Two weeks felt like forever.”

“I know,” he said, his voice tinged with guilt. “I didn’t think it would take that long. Storms were... unpredictable this time.”

You reached up, brushing a stray lock of his wavy brown hair off his forehead. “It’s okay. I get it. You’re home now—that’s what matters.”

He let out a long breath, leaning his head back against the couch. “Home,” he echoed, almost as if the word was foreign to him. But the way his arm tightened around you, pulling you closer, made it clear that he understood exactly what it meant.

“Hungry?” you asked after a beat, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Starving,” he admitted, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Well, you’re in luck. I made lasagna last night. Figured you’d need something hearty after living off gas station snacks and fast food.”

Tyler chuckled, his voice rumbling against you. “Have I mentioned lately how lucky I am to have you?”

You tilted your head to look at him, your smile mirroring his. “Not today. But you can start now.”

He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’ll do better,” he promised, and in that moment, with his warmth surrounding you and the steady beat of his heart under your ear, you believed him.

The oven beeped softly as you set the timer, the warm smell of lasagna already starting to fill the kitchen. It wouldn’t be as good as it was fresh last night, but Tyler wouldn’t care. He’d scarf it down and tell you it was the best meal he’d had in weeks, and you’d believe him because that’s just who he was—always grateful, always sincere.

You were rinsing a glass in the sink when you heard the faint buzz of Tyler’s phone vibrating against the coffee table in the living room. His deep voice carried over the quiet hum of the house as he answered. You couldn’t make out the words, but you had a pretty good guess who it was. Boone or Dani, maybe both. You leaned against the counter, straining to catch fragments of the conversation. Tyler’s voice was calm but firm, his words clipped in the way they always were when he was focused on a problem.

The sound of his footsteps moving toward the stairs made your stomach twist. You turned just in time to see him disappear up to the second floor, the weight of dread settling over you like a heavy blanket. You didn’t need to ask what was happening; you already knew.

Still, you found yourself following him, your bare feet padding softly on the stairs. By the time you reached the doorway to your bedroom, Tyler was pulling clothes from the dresser, a duffel bag already lying open on the bed. He didn’t notice you at first, too preoccupied with finding what he needed. You leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms as you watched him.

“How bad is it?” you asked finally, your voice quieter than you intended.

Tyler glanced over his shoulder, startled by your presence, but he didn’t stop packing.

“Really bad,” he admitted, shoving a few shirts into the bag. “There’s a cell headed straight for Oklahoma City. Boone says it’s one of the nastiest cells he’s seen in a while.”

“How long will you be gone this time?” you asked, already bracing yourself for the answer.

He sighed, pausing as he reached for a pair of jeans. “I don’t know. Hopefully just a few nights.”

You nodded, though the lump in your throat made it hard to swallow. “Do you really need to go? You just got back, Ty. Can’t you sit this one out? Just once?”

Tyler turned to face you, his expression conflicted. “I wish I could, but this one’s bad. Towns are gonna need us. Javi and Kate are already on their way, and Dani’s meeting us there.”

You flinched at the mention of her name. Kate. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Tyler—you did, completely. He was a good man, loyal to a fault. But lately, it felt like every story he told, every update he gave, involved her. Kate this, Kate that. The team. Always the team.

The crack in your voice surprised even you when you finally spoke. “Just go. Go hang out with Kate. You’ve gotten pretty good at that.”

The words hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and electric. Tyler froze, the shirt in his hand forgotten as he turned to look at you. His face fell, hurt flickering in his eyes before he sighed and set the shirt down on the bed.

“That’s not fair,” he said quietly, his tone even but weighted. “You know that’s not what this is about.”

“I know,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes as you looked away. “I just... I don’t want you to go, Tyler.”

“I don’t want to go either,” he said, stepping toward you. His voice was softer now, but there was still a hint of frustration. “But this is what I do. What we do. You knew that when you moved in.”

“And what about what I need?” you countered, your arms tightening across your chest. “You’ve been gone for two weeks, Ty. Two weeks. I barely got you back, and now you’re leaving again.”

He didn’t respond right away, his jaw tightening as he searched for the right words. Instead of answering, he reached for you, his hand brushing against your arm. But you pulled back, shaking your head as a tear slipped down your cheek.

“Don’t,” you murmured. “Just… pack your bag.”

You turned sharply on your heel, heading back downstairs before the tears welling in your eyes could spill over. Tyler’s sigh was heavy, cutting through the thick silence of the house. You heard his footsteps following you, faster now, as he called after you.

“Darlin’,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. “C’mon, wait.”

You didn’t stop. You didn’t want to have this conversation, not when your emotions were this raw, but he caught up to you at the bottom of the stairs, his hand reaching gently for your arm.

“Sweetheart, please,” he tried again, stepping in front of you to block your retreat. His green eyes searched yours, filled with concern and something you couldn’t quite place. “I don’t want to leave like this.”

You scoffed, pulling your arm free and folding it across your chest. “Funny, that. You seem to have no problem leaving any other time.”

He winced at the jab, but his expression softened as he tried to explain. “It’s not what you think. I know you’re upset about Kate, but—”

“This isn’t about her, Ty,” you interrupted, shaking your head as you turned away from him.

The frustration in his face shifted to confusion. “Then what is it? Why are you so upset?”

Your hands clenched at your sides as you looked at him, trying to find the words that would make him understand. “I’m upset because you’re leaving. Again. Because every time you walk out that door, I don’t know how long it’ll be until I see you again. And I’m supposed to just… deal with it. Like it doesn’t matter. Like I don’t matter.”

“Darlin’…” he started, but you cut him off again.

“My birthday party is on Saturday, Ty,” you said, your voice cracking as you met his gaze. “In two days. You knew that, right?”

His face told you everything you needed to know before he said a word. He’d either forgotten or hadn’t thought about it when he’d agreed to meet up with the team. The guilt in his eyes was enough to send a fresh wave of hurt through you.

“I’ll try to be back for it,” he said finally, but you could hear the hollowness in the promise. You both knew it wasn’t likely.

You felt your heart ache, the words barely leaving your lips. “Do you even realize what that does to me? The hoping, the waiting—knowing you probably won’t be there?”

He stepped closer, reaching for your hand, but you pulled away. “I want to stay,” he said earnestly, his voice breaking ever so slightly. “I do. But I can’t. I’m needed out there. These storms, they—”

“Don’t,” you whispered, shaking your head. “Don’t say it.”

“Darlin’, just let it go,” he pleaded, his voice desperate now. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I swear. And when I get back, we’ll have a date night. Whatever you want. You plan it, I’ll make it happen. Just... let me go, okay?”

The tears you’d been holding back slipped free, rolling down your cheeks as you finally broke. “I can’t just let you go,” you said, your voice trembling. “Not this time, Ty. Please. Don’t make me try to make you stay.”

He reached for you again, but this time, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let him take your hands in his, his warmth grounding you even as your heart shattered.

“I just…” Your voice cracked as you looked up at him, the tears blurring your vision. “I just want to be enough. Just once, I want to be enough for you to stay.”

The words hung in the air, raw and aching, as Tyler’s grip on your hands tightened. He opened his mouth to respond, but for the first time, he seemed at a loss. His eyes searched yours, the storm inside him almost as intense as the one he was chasing.

Before Tyler could say anything else, his phone buzzed, the sound sharp and intrusive in the quiet tension between you. He pulled it from his pocket, glancing at the screen. His jaw tightened as he sighed, the weight of the message clearly written in his expression.

“Boone’ll be here in about fifteen minutes,” he said softly, sliding the phone back into his pocket. “I need to finish packing.”

You didn’t respond, only nodding as you reached up to swipe at the tears still slipping down your cheeks. His words, as well-intentioned as they might have been, were a knife to the heart. He wasn’t saying, I’ll stay, or even, Let’s finish talking. He was saying, I’ve already made my choice.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Tyler said, his voice heavy with something that might have been regret. “We can keep talking then.”

But you both knew the truth. He might want to come back to this conversation, but the fact that he was finishing packing first told you everything you needed to know. Nothing you could say would make him stay.

When he returned downstairs, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, you heard Boone’s old beat up van pulling into the driveway. The headlights briefly lit up the kitchen window before Tyler opened the door and called out to his friend, “I’ll be right there.”

Then he turned back to you. You were still at the counter, picking absently at your lasagna, the fork dragging across your plate. The second plate—the one you’d made for him—sat untouched, cooling and forgotten.

He hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer. “Darlin’,” he said softly, his voice full of unspoken apologies. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

You didn’t look up, but you felt him lean in to press a kiss to your lips. You turned away at the last second, and his kiss landed awkwardly on your cheek. He sighed and shifted, settling instead for a kiss on the crown of your head.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice almost breaking.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing the words past it. “I love you, too.”

And you did. God, you did. You loved him to a fault, even when it felt like your love wasn’t enough to make him stay.

“Be safe,” you whispered.

“I will,” he promised, his words like a balm to a wound that wouldn’t heal.

You watched him walk out the door, your eyes stinging with fresh tears as Tyler’s truck rumbled to life. You watched through the kitchen window as Tyler threw his bag into the back and climbed into the driver’s seat, his figure silhouetted in the dim glow of the driveway lights. Boone threw his own bag into the backseat and then climbed into the passenger seat.

And then they were gone. Tailights headed up the driveway and then disappearing as Tyler turned onto the highway.

You stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty driveway, wondering—When will he be done with this? With chasing every storm, every call for adventure? You blinked, and the tears spilled over, hot and unrelenting.

You made your way back to the living room, the familiar comfort of the worn couch doing little to ease the ache in your chest. Your mind wandered as you sank into the cushions, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the fabric.

You thought back to a conversation you and Tyler had a few weeks ago, one of those late-night talks where the future seemed so bright and full of possibility. He’d talked about marriage, about having kids. About building a life together.

But now, as you sat there in the quiet, the weight of his absence pressing down on you, a painful thought crept in. How could he ever be a husband or a father when he barely had time to be a boyfriend?

The realization broke something in you. You wanted that life with Tyler more than anything. You wanted to be his wife, to see him become a father. You wanted to build a family with him, to share those moments of joy and chaos and love.

But you didn’t want him to be a part-time dad. You didn’t want a husband who was always somewhere else, chasing storms and leaving you behind.

And for the first time, you wondered if the life you wanted was even possible with the man you loved.

* * * *

TYLER’S P.O.V.

The rhythmic hum of Tyler’s truck tires against the highway should have been soothing, but to Tyler, it felt like nails on a chalkboard. He stared out the window, his elbow propped on the door, fingers pressed against his temple. The world outside was dark, illuminated only by the truck’s headlights and the occasional glow of a passing sign.

Boone cast a sideways glance at him for what had to be the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes. Tyler knew it was only a matter of time before he spoke up, but he wasn’t ready to talk. Not yet.

“You gonna tell me what’s eatin’ at you, or do I have to drag it outta you?” Boone finally asked, breaking the silence.

Tyler didn’t respond at first, just shifted in his seat and rubbed the back of his neck.

“C’mon, man,” Boone continued. “We’ve been friends too long for me not to know when somethin’s wrong. You’ve barely said a word since we left, haven’t turned on the music, and you’re starin’ out the window like the answer to life’s problems is out there somewhere.”

Tyler sighed, long and heavy, before leaning back in his seat. “It’s nothin’, Boone. Just tired.”

Boone snorted, unimpressed. “Bull. You’ve pulled all-nighters before and still wouldn’t shut up the whole ride. Don’t make me guess, Ty. Just spit it out.”

Tyler let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re like a damn bloodhound, you know that?”

“Yup. Now spill.”

Tyler hesitated, but finally gave in. “We had a fight,” he admitted quietly.

Boone glanced at him again, his brows furrowing. “You and her?”

Tyler nodded. “Yeah. Right before I left.”

“What about?” Boone asked, his tone softening.

Tyler hesitated again, struggling to find the right words. “I dunno, man. Not really Kate, but…I guess kinda about Kate?” He let out another sigh. “She’s not mad about her, though. She’s mad about me leavin’. Again.”

Boone didn’t say anything at first, just let Tyler talk.

“She told me she needed me to stay,” Tyler continued, his voice quieter now. “For her. For once, she needed me to stay, and I still…I didn’t.” He swallowed hard, the weight of his own words settling heavily on his chest.

Boone nodded slowly. “And you think you messed up bad this time?”

Tyler’s laugh was humorless, almost bitter. “Yeah, Boone. I think I really screwed up. She turned away when I tried to kiss her goodbye, man. That’s never happened before. And the look on her face…” His voice cracked, and he paused, swallowing against the lump in his throat.

Boone glanced at him again, concern etched across his face. “She loves you, Ty. You know that, right?”

“I know,” Tyler said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But what if…what if it’s not enough anymore? What if I’m not enough anymore?” He shook his head, his voice breaking again. “I can’t lose her, Boone. I can’t.”

Boone tightened his grip on the wheel, his jaw set. “Then don’t. You’re stubborn as hell when it comes to everything else, so don’t give up on this either. You’ll figure it out, Ty.”

Tyler nodded, running a hand over his face. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I know.”

The two fell into silence again, but this time it wasn’t quite as heavy. Boone reached over and turned on the radio, keeping the volume low. Tyler leaned his head back against the seat, staring at the roof of the truck and trying to figure out how the hell he was going to fix this.

* * * *

TWO DAYS LATER, YOUR BIRTHDAY

The sun streamed through your bedroom window as you sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at your phone. A single missed call and a few unread texts from Tyler stared back at you. You hadn’t opened the messages, too stubborn—or maybe too hurt—to even look at them. It wasn’t that you didn’t care. You cared too much, and that was the problem.

You opened the Life360 app for what had to be the hundredth time in the last two days, watching Tyler’s little icon blink on the map. Still in Oklahoma. Still chasing storms. Still too far away to make it home.

Even if he left right now, you calculated bitterly, it’d be three, maybe four in the morning before he walked through the door. But he wasn’t leaving. You knew that. The tracker told you everything you needed to know—Tyler Owens wasn’t coming home for your birthday.

You locked your phone and tossed it onto the bed, your chest tightening with the familiar ache of disappointment. It wasn’t anger. No, anger would have been easier. Anger would have been a quick burn, a flash of heat that you could let out and be done with. This was worse. This was the cold, dull ache of hurt.

You stood and moved to the mirror, staring at your reflection as you got ready for the party. You’d spent weeks planning this, excited to celebrate with the people you loved most. Now, the thought of facing them felt almost unbearable. Everyone would ask about Tyler, and you’d have to put on a brave face, smile through the questions, and pretend like you weren’t holding your breath every time your phone buzzed, hoping it’d be him telling you he was on his way.

But you knew better. He wasn’t coming.

As you brushed a stray tear from your cheek, your mind wandered back to the conversation you’d had with Tyler a few weeks ago. He’d talked about your future together, about getting married and having kids, painting a picture of a life you’d always dreamed of. But now, the cracks in that picture seemed impossible to ignore. How could you build a life with someone who was always halfway out the door?

You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply as you fought to push those thoughts aside. Not today. You wouldn’t let them ruin today. This was your birthday, and you deserved to enjoy it, even if he wasn’t there.

Straightening your shoulders, you turned back to the mirror and gave yourself a firm nod. You’d put on your best dress, your brightest smile, and celebrate with the people who were here. But as you stepped away from the mirror and picked up your phone again, that stubborn, nagging ache in your chest reminded you that no matter how hard you tried, a part of you would always be waiting for him.

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived, the sound of laughter and conversation filling the air. String lights hung from the trees, casting a warm glow over the backyard, and the scent of barbecue wafted through the cool evening breeze. Everyone had shown up—friends, family, even a few coworkers. It should’ve felt perfect.

But as you smiled and greeted everyone, it felt like you were moving through a haze. The excitement and joy on everyone else’s faces only seemed to amplify the emptiness you felt inside. You plastered on a smile, accepting hugs and well-wishes, thanking people for coming, but the effort was exhausting.

A couple of hours in, you found yourself standing near the drink table, sipping from a plastic cup of wine and watching the crowd. Your mom made her way over, a warm smile on her face, but the moment she reached you, her brow furrowed slightly.

“Honey, where’s Tyler?” she asked, her voice gentle but laced with curiosity.

You froze for a moment, gripping the cup a little tighter. “Oh, he’s, um, he’s on a chase,” you said, forcing the words out. “It came up last minute.”

Her expression softened with understanding, but you could see the concern flicker in her eyes. “I’m sure he wishes he could be here,” she said, reaching out to touch your arm.

You nodded quickly, blinking back the sting of tears. “Yeah, of course. He’s been texting me. He feels awful about it.” The lie slipped out so easily, you almost believed it yourself.

Your mom gave you a small squeeze before drifting back into the crowd, but the interaction left you rattled. You tried to shake it off, turning to join a group of friends by the fire pit, laughing at their stories and pretending like everything was fine.

But as the hours dragged on, the weight of Tyler’s absence pressed heavier on your chest. Every time someone asked about him or mentioned how great the party was, it felt like a reminder of what was missing. You glanced at your watch—10:03. The party was supposed to go until one, but you couldn’t stay another minute.

You slipped away quietly, grabbing your purse and coat from the entryway. A few people called out goodbyes as you left, and you forced a smile, waving over your shoulder as you made your way to the car.

The drive home was a blur. By the time you walked through the front door, the tears you’d been holding back all evening finally broke free. You kicked off your heels and sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands as sobs wracked your body.

You’d wanted so badly to enjoy tonight, to celebrate with the people who loved you. But the one person you needed most wasn’t there, and no amount of pretending could fill that void.

You thought about all the times you’d told yourself it was okay, that Tyler’s work was important, that you understood why he couldn’t always be there. But tonight, it didn’t feel okay. Tonight, you just felt… alone.

And as you curled up on the couch, clutching a throw pillow to your chest, a single thought echoed in your mind: How much longer can I keep doing this?

* * * *

The soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains as Tyler stepped through the front door. Exhaustion pulled at him, but it wasn’t what he noticed. What stopped him cold was the sight of you curled up on the couch, a pillow clutched to your chest, tear tracks staining your cheeks. His heart sank.

He set his bag down quietly, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He knew he’d hurt you—he always knew—but seeing it like this, seeing you broken because of him, twisted the knife in his chest.

Carefully, he walked over and crouched beside the couch. For a moment, he just looked at you, the rise and fall of your chest as you slept. The way your fingers clung to the pillow as if it could offer some comfort.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick.

Tyler leaned down and slid his arms under you, lifting you gently. You stirred slightly, murmuring in your sleep, but you didn’t wake. He carried you upstairs, careful not to bump into anything, and laid you down on the bed. He pulled the blankets up to your shoulders, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face before leaving quietly.

A few hours later, you made your way downstairs, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Your body felt heavy, your chest tight. The events of last night still hung over you like a storm cloud.

As you reached the living room, you noticed him sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. A bouquet of wildflowers sat on the coffee table in front of him, their bright colors almost mocking in the dull atmosphere.

He heard your steps and looked up, his face lighting up with a hopeful smile. “Morning,” he said softly, standing and walking toward you.

You stopped at the base of the stairs, arms crossed, as he closed the distance. He reached out, pulling you into his arms.

“You look pretty,” he said, his voice warm and tender.

You huffed, pulling back just enough to look at him. “I cried myself to sleep last night, so I’m sure I look like a supermodel,” you said, your voice laced with sarcasm.

His smile faltered, and his brow furrowed. “You cried yourself to sleep?” he repeated, his voice dropping with guilt. “God, I’m so sorry.”

You pulled away, shaking your head, and walked past him into the living room. His gaze followed you, the weight of your silence pressing down on him.

“I missed you,” he said softly, his voice tentative.

You didn’t respond. You sat down on the armrest of the chair, staring at the flowers but refusing to acknowledge him.

Tyler sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, silent treatment. Got it.” He stepped closer, his tone pleading now. “What’s it gonna take to make this up to you?”

You looked up at him then, your eyes sharp and filled with hurt. “It’s too late for that.”

His face fell, and for a moment, he just stared at you, as if the words hadn’t fully sunk in. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice cracking.

You took a deep breath, the words tasting bitter as you forced them out. “I mean I’m done, Tyler. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep having you miss things—important things—for the job.”

He staggered back a step, as if the words had physically struck him. “No, no, don’t say that,” he said, his voice breaking. “Please, don’t say that.”

His knees hit the floor in front of you, his hands reaching for yours. “I can’t lose you. I’ll do better, I promise. I’ll talk to the team—I already did. I told them I’d cut back on the days I’m on the road. I swear to you, it’ll be different.”

You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. “It’s too late, Tyler. You should’ve done that months ago. I begged you to.”

His hands gripped yours tighter, desperation pouring out of him. “I know. I know I screwed up. I know I’ve hurt you. But I love you. I need you. Please… just give me one more chance.”

You looked away, your heart-shattering at the sight of him, broken and pleading. You wanted so badly to believe him, to believe that things could change. But deep down, you knew the cycle would continue.

The finality in your voice broke him. He leaned his forehead against your knees, his shoulders shaking as he choked back a sob. You reached down, your fingers threading through his hair one last time, and then you stood, walking away before you could change your mind.

* * * *

A WEEK LATER

The house was eerily quiet, save for the faint creak of the floorboards as Tyler shuffled aimlessly from room to room. He hadn’t left in days, couldn’t bring himself to. The walls seemed to press in around him, suffocating and empty. The coffee table still held the dead bouquet of wildflowers he’d bought for you, their once-vivid colors now dulled to brown. Next to them sat the small red box, untouched, its contents a painful reminder of what he’d lost.

He sank onto the couch, rubbing his hands over his face. His eyes burned, swollen from too many sleepless nights and too many tears. He hadn’t eaten much. He hadn’t showered. He couldn’t bring himself to care. Every corner of the house was haunted by you—your laughter, your smile, the faint scent of your perfume still lingering in the air.

A sharp knock at the door startled him. He ignored it, hoping whoever it was would go away. But the knocking came again, louder this time, and then he heard Boone’s voice calling out.

“Tyler! Open the damn door!”

Tyler groaned, dragging himself off the couch. He unlocked the door and swung it open, only to find Boone, Lilly, Dexter, and Dani standing on his porch. They took one look at him, and their faces fell.

“Jesus, man,” Boone said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. The others followed, their expressions a mix of concern and shock.

“You look like hell,” Lilly said softly, her hand brushing his arm.

Tyler let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, it feels about right.”

They gathered in the living room, their eyes flicking to the dead flowers and the mess of empty coffee cups and takeout containers scattered on the table. Boone cleared his throat, leaning forward.

“All right, spill. What the hell happened?”

Tyler sank back onto the couch, his head in his hands. He took a shaky breath before finally speaking. “She’s gone,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The room fell silent. Boone exchanged a confused look with Dexter, while Dani’s hand flew to her mouth.

“Gone?” Lilly asked. “What do you mean, gone? We knew you two fought, but… Tyler, we thought you’d work it out.”

Tyler shook his head, his voice breaking. “She’s done. She walked out, and I don’t blame her. I couldn’t—” He stopped, his throat tightening. “I couldn’t give her what she needed. I wasn’t there for her. She deserved better, and I couldn’t be that for her.”

Boone leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “Tyler, man, you’ve gotta talk to her. Fix this.”

“It’s too late,” Tyler said, his voice hollow. “She’s made up her mind.”

The group exchanged glances, unsure of what to say. Boone’s gaze drifted to the coffee table, where the small red box caught his attention. He reached for it, his fingers brushing the worn velvet.

Tyler’s head snapped up. “Boone, don’t—”

But it was too late. Boone flipped the lid open, his eyes widening as he took in the ring inside. The room went still.

“Tyler,” Boone said, his voice low. “What is this?”

Tyler’s jaw clenched, and he looked away, unable to meet his friend’s gaze. “It’s… it was supposed to be hers,” he said quietly. “I was going to ask her that night we got back. I was going to tell her I was ready to change, ready to be better for her. Ask her to give me one more chance. But it didn’t matter. I waited too long.”

The weight of his confession hung in the air, pressing down on everyone in the room. Lilly’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and Dani reached over to place a comforting hand on Tyler’s arm.

“Tyler,” Dexter said gently, “it’s not too late. If you love her, you fight for her. You show her you’re serious. You don’t give up now.”

Tyler shook his head. “She’s better off without me,” he muttered.

“No,” Boone said firmly, closing the ring box and setting it back on the table. “She’s not. She loves you, Tyler.”

Tyler didn’t respond. He just stared at the floor, the weight of their words battling with the doubt and regret that consumed him.

The room fell silent again, each of them searching for the right thing to say. Finally, Lilly spoke up, her voice soft but determined.

“Tyler, you don’t have to do this alone. We’ll help you figure it out.”

Tyler’s shoulders sagged, and for the first time in days, a flicker of hope pierced through the darkness. “I don’t know if she’ll even listen,” he said quietly.

“You don’t know unless you try,” Boone said.

Tyler stands up abruptly, grabbing his keys, his mind set on finding you. But Boone, ever the realist, steps in his path. He holds up a hand, a half-smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Ty, you’re not going anywhere like that," Boone says, looking him up and down. "You’ve been living like a hermit for a week. You smell like you’ve slept in a barn, and I’m pretty sure your hair has its own ecosystem. Go take a shower, put on some clean clothes, and then we’ll talk about how you’re gonna win her back. You can’t even look at her like this."

Tyler stares at Boone, then looks down at his own disheveled appearance, realizing his friend might have a point. With a sigh, he drops the keys onto the counter. “Fine.

Boone watches him with a knowing look as Tyler trudges upstairs, and the team remains silent for a moment.

Boone sighs and heads toward the door, turning back once to glance at Tyler’s room. He knows his friend isn’t ready to give up, and neither is he. Tyler had made his mistake, but it wasn’t too late to change. They just had to get him there first...and then hope by some miracle that you'd listen to what Tyler had to say.

#Tyler Owens #Tyler Owens x reader #Tyler Owens x you #Tyler Owens Fic #Tyler Owens Fanfic #Tyler Owens Fanfiction #Tyler Owens Angst

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