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fireinmoonshot · 5 months ago

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death wish love | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: As members of rival storm chasing groups, you and Tyler Owens have hated each other since the start – well, you were supposed to. Little do you know, Tyler has been head over heels for you for months, and it's only when he nearly loses you that he realises he's done with pretending to hate you. Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, mentions of blood, tornadoes (of course), Tyler is actually painfully obvious with his crush but thinks he's not at all. Word Count: 6.7k (I don't know how that happened) A/N: I had this idea for a fic a few days ago and when I was listening to the Twisters soundtrack as I wrote, I realised that the song Death Wish Love fits it perfectly. I did not intend for this to be so long, but it somehow just happened. It's probably one of the longest things I've written on this blog, so I hope anyone that reads it really enjoys it. I had so much fun writing it and playing around in the Twisters universe! I will definitely be writing more for Tyler.

One of these days, Tyler Owens was going to get his shit together and ask you out. There were, however, several things in the way. The most pressing being the fact that your storm chasing groups were rivals and had been for years.

The fact that you hated his guts would be the second.

He was unaware that you didn’t hate him quite as much as you made out to, though. It was just that you had a reputation to uphold. Being the unofficial leader of The Thunder Team, your friends and fellow storm chasers all expected you to dislike the Tornado Wranglers just as much as they did.

And you had – in the start.

You were just beginning your PhD, fairly fresh in the world of storm chasing and the rivalry between your teams had been there from the very beginning. To your team, the Tornado Wranglers were nothing more than a bunch of stupid kids who didn’t even have the correct knowledge to be chasing these tornadoes.

To you, they had slowly become something of a wonder. You didn’t think it was necessary to have a PhD or education under your belt in order to storm chase. As long as you loved it, that was enough. And you never doubted the love that the Tornado Wranglers had for it.

But still, the rivalry continued. It was always a competition. Who could get to the tornado first? Who could get closer? Who had better instincts when it came to choosing which one to chase? Who could get more attention on social media with their photos and videos?

The Tornado Wranglers had an advantage on that one.

That never stopped your team trying, though. Which is exactly what they’re doing as you walk towards them from where you’ve just parked your car. They’re all crowded around the van in the motel parking lot. Robbie, one of your closest friends, is filming Ally talking about something, probably regarding the EF1 tornado you’d chased today.

You stop far enough away that you aren’t going to end up in the background of the video, and that’s when Tyler Owens sidles up beside you, arms crossed over his chest.

“Not interested in going viral?”

You glance up at him and notice he’s already looking at you with a cocky grin on his irritatingly handsome face. “No, figured I’d leave that to you and your team. Shoot any fireworks up a tornado today? I didn’t see you out there.”

“I didn’t realise you were looking.”

There’s something strange in his tone of voice, but when you look at him again, there’s nothing in his face to give away the reason.

“I wasn’t,” you huff. “It’s just that I see your giant red truck everywhere when I’m trying to get good photos of the tornadoes and it’s quite obvious when you’re not there.”

Tyler smiles to himself. “Why don’t you come chasing with us one day, then? My truck won’t end up in your photos if you’re taking photos from inside it.”

You laugh. “That is the last thing I would want to do.” A lie. You’ve thought about it several times in the past.

“Sure, sure. You keep telling yourself that and one day you might actually believe it.”

You narrow your eyes at him but make no move to walk away from him. Your team are still filming and you’d rather stay away until they’re finished, even if it means standing with Tyler Owens until they are.

“You guys gonna stop by the rodeo tomorrow night?” Tyler breaks the silence.

You shrug your shoulders. “Depends on how tomorrow goes. You?”

He nods. “Yeah, we probably will, even if tomorrow doesn’t go to plan. You know my team. We love a night out.”

The weather tomorrow was predicted to be a good one for storm chasers – thunderstorms with heavy rain and likely a tornado as well, if the conditions were good enough. You were all hoping that they were.

“My guys are less likely to go if they know your team is going, you know?” You look at Tyler, noticing the way that he’s watching your team, who are now laughing at something that Ally had said for the video. “We are still rivals.”

“Did you think I needed a reminder?” He chuckles.

“Why? Am I being too nice to you?”

Tyler grins, one of those ones that makes you feel a little funny in your stomach. Like butterflies – but you don’t get butterflies from people you dislike.

“Oh, darlin', you’re always a delight.”

You roll your eyes. “Want me to get you a shovel so you can start digging yourself a hole?”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender and laughs. “Sorry, sorry,” he grins. “You wanna grab one for yourself so you can help me? I’d love the company.”

You open your mouth to reply about how much you’d love to help just as you catch Robbie’s eye. He’s quick to call out your name, beckoning you over, and you have no choice but to listen to him and leave Tyler. You’ve already stood here talking to him long enough and the last thing you want is your team thinking that you’re colluding with the Tornado Wranglers.

“Gotta go,” you nod your head towards your group. “Good luck tomorrow.”

Tyler bids you good luck as well and watches as you head over towards your group, all of them eyeing him as you reach them. He tips his hat at Robbie, who is watching him with judging eyes, and turns on his heel, heading back to his own team to get a well needed beer.

—

When Tyler gets back to his team, he realises that they were all watching him. They all give him questioning looks as he grabs a beer out of the cooler.

“What? I got something on my face?”

“Yeah, it sure is written all over your face,” Boone says.

Tyler frowns. “What is?”

“Oh, don’t try and lie to us, Ty,” Dani adds.

He shakes his head and takes a seat on one of the fold up chairs beside his truck. He’s smart enough to see what they’re getting at – the way he’d been there talking with you for so long. His friends are smart too. But hopefully not smart enough to see through the facade Tyler puts up to try and convince them that he still dislikes you.

“Her, Ty? Really? She’s from the Thunder Team.” Boone stares Tyler down.

Tyler has no choice. “Okay, no,” he sighs and takes a long swig of his beer. “We were just talking, and I was just messing around with her.” He was also trying to get the courage to ask you to the rodeo, just the two of you, but he’d chickened out at the last second. “She definitely still hates us, judging by her reaction.”

Truth is, Tyler Owens has been harbouring a secret crush on you for the better part of a year now. It had snuck up on him. He’d hated you at first, thought you were just another stuck up storm chasing student, especially when he found out you were studying for your PhD. But after spending so much time around you, something had changed and all of a sudden, you had a hold over him that you didn’t even realise you had.

It drives Tyler insane.

The way he feels when he looks at you is definitely not the way he should be feeling about anyone, letalone the leader of a rival storm chasing team. But here he is.

The passion he’d seen in your eyes when you’d been chasing storms. The way you talked about them in your captions on social media when you posted photos you’d taken. Even the way you made time to learn more about them through school while being on the road so often.

He was well aware that he was supposed to hate you. And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it anymore.

“You sure that’s all it was?”

“A hundred percent, Boone.”

He’s thankful when the conversation moves away from you and the Thunder Team. It lets him sit in his own thoughts for a few minutes until he’ll undoubtedly be brought back into the conversation for one reason or another.

He’s unable to stop his eyes from drifting over to you and your team. You’ve taken a seat on the back of a truck, watching safely from behind the camera as Robbie films Ally again. He tries hard not to smile at the look on your face as you watch your friends, laughing along with the others. The last thing he needs right now is for one of his team to catch him grinning at you like an idiot, especially after convincing them that there’s nothing going on.

He realises, then, that he’s already in way too deep.

—

The last thing you expect when you wake up the next morning is to find out that your team made a bet with the Tornado Wranglers when you had gone to bed.

It’d been raining for most of the night, the ground covered in mud and puddles. The sky was dark and you could just feel that the conditions were perfect for a tornado. You had a good feeling that today would be the day.

Until you learnt about the bet.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you guys alone.”

Robbie laughs, nearly choking on the piece of bacon he’d been eating. You’ve all come to a nearby diner to fuel up on both food and gas for your cars before what was supposed to be a long day of storm chasing. You have a feeling that it won’t be now that the bet exists.

“Okay, technically it was their fault,” Ally offers.

“Explain.”

“So, we’d had a few drinks, and they had clearly also been drinking, and Harry and I were heading over to the bathrooms to clean up before going to bed – because dental hygiene is important!” Ally begins, forgetting all about her half eaten plate of food. “We were almost there when they called out to us – I forget their names. The blond guy and the one with the mustache, the cute one. Anyway, they suggested a bet. Whoever could hold their liquor the best gets to choose which direction the other team chases in today.”

You stare at Ally. “And you said yes.”

She winces, and then shovels a fork full of eggs into her mouth, nodding so she doesn’t have to give you a proper answer.

Your team is usually quite well behaved. But even the best of people could get taken advantage of, and you’ve seen it many times first hand with the Tornado Wranglers. They can hold their liquor very well and wake up the next day with very little consequences from doing so. You’re honestly surprised Ally is even functioning. Harry, on the other hand, you haven’t seen all morning. Unsurprisingly, your team had obviously lost.

“Which direction are we going, then?”

“That’s the catch,” Robbie interjects. “They choose for us before we go. They get to look at the radar first and decide which way is going to be best. And naturally, they’re going to send us in the direction far away from the best chance.”

You groan and let your head fall into your hands, beginning to ponder your options. You can either deal with the bet and get sent in the entirely wrong direction, or…

Without a second thought, you’re pushing yourself up from the table and heading towards the door of the diner.

“Where are you going!?” Robbie calls after you.

“I’m going to fix this mess!”

—

Tyler greets you with a smile that is way too cheerful for both the time of the morning that it is and the situation.

“To what do I owe the pleasure on this fine morning, darlin'?” He asks, leaning up against his truck. He’s holding a coffee in one hand. Good to know he’s human. You’re not surprised that he doesn’t look hungover at all. The man practically resembles a God.

“Wouldn’t call it a pleasure, honey,” you sigh, deciding to use a nickname just like he always uses for you. You cross your arms over your chest as you stop in front of him. “This bet you made with my team last night. I want it called off.”

Tyler’s breath catches in his throat at the sound of the word honey coming out of your mouth, directed at him. He clears his throat, trying to ignore the way it feels to hear you calling him that. “No can do, I’m afraid. We Tornado Wranglers don’t back down on bets.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I’m asking nicely.”

“I think you can ask a little nicer. Maybe throw a please in there,” he says. “You know it wouldn’t look good for your team, though, right? Half the other teams know about the bet.”

For a few moments, you simply just stare at him, hoping he’ll budge. He doesn’t. He stands there staring at you, too, leaning against his truck in an effortlessly attractive way, smiling at you in that same way he always does. It’s like he reserves this specific smile just for you.

You take a step towards him, testing the waters, and notice the way his breath hitches this time at your close proximity. Did he dislike you that much that you getting this close to him set him on edge? Or was it something else?

“Nothing can change your mind?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I already told you. We don’t back down on our bets.”

“Tyler.” It’s a rare occasion where you call him by his first name, but you figure it can’t hurt to try it. You can see his eyes soften a little at the sound of it. “If you do this, you’re going to send us right off the trail and ruin our chase.”

“Who said I’d send you in the wrong direction?”

“I’m smarter than you give me credit for.”

“I don’t know, darlin'. I give you a fair bit of credit for being a genius,” he took a sip of his coffee. “You’re the one with the PhD. I didn’t study that much.”

Something about hearing those words sets off that feeling inside your stomach again. You push it down. “I don’t have my PhD yet.”

“No,” Tyler shakes his head. “But you’re close, aren’t you? That’s more than most people around here can say regarding their education on these things.” He points a finger towards the sky, which is rapidly darkening.

You sigh. He’s right about that. You are close to finishing your PhD, and not many of the other storm chasers around you could say the same.

“Just tell me which direction we’re going in, Owens.”

He looks at you for a moment. “I’ll give you a choice,” he says, and for a moment hope sparks in your chest that you’ll get to choose your direction – until he continues speaking. “I’ll let this bet go if you make another one with me.”

“What sort of bet?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Not regarding our teams. Just you and me.”

You’re about to respond when you hear the sound of the van, playing music rather loudly – Harry’s choice – pulling into the motel parking lot behind you. You sigh and turn around to look at them, irritated that this is the second time in less than 24 hours that they’ve interrupted you and Tyler.

“No luck?” Ally calls out from the passenger seat.

Behind them, Robbie pulls up in his truck.

You shake your head and turn back around to face Tyler. There’s no time to make another bet with him now that your team is here and they’re all ready to go.

“East or west, Owens?”

Tyler turns around and looks at the sky around you. You figure he’s already done his research on the conditions in every direction and that he’s just messing with you, pretending to decide on the spot. Any good storm chaser would have been watching the radars all morning – which you had been, before you found out about the bet.

“East.” He says, turning back around to face you. “There are two possible formations, so let’s see which one develops. Or, you can ditch your team and come join us for the day. My passenger seat practically has your name on it, darlin’.”

A small part of you finds yourself wanting to say yes to him. To tell him that you’d love nothing more than to get in his truck and see what a day with the Tornado Wranglers is like. But the reasonable part of you wins out.

“You’re going to regret making this bet with my team, Owens,” you take a step back from him, giving him his space again.

“I gave you the choice of another option, but you didn’t take it.”

You ignore him and turn around, heading towards the passenger side of Robbie’s truck – your usual spot when storm chasing. Tyler laughs at your reaction and then gets into his own truck before pressing his hand to the horn, making you jump at the sound, obviously using it to call his team from inside. You shoot him a look over your shoulder and in return, he sends a wink your way.

“May the best team win,” Tyler flashes a grin.

“Oh, we will!”

—

As much as Tyler hates to admit it, he had sent you in the wrong direction. There were two possible formations, that was true. But it looked very clear that the one to the east wasn’t actually going to develop into anything, and he was sure you would’ve figured that out once you got on the road and actually checked the conditions yourself.

He hates disappointing you. He saw the look on your face as you tried to convince him to call off the bet, the way you wanted to make sure today was a good one for your team. But it isn’t entirely out of competition that he sent you in the wrong direction.

Subconsciously, he did it to try and keep you safe.

If you’re out of the way of the tornado, then it’s a weight off of Tyler’s chest. He wouldn’t admit that to his team, but it felt good to think about himself. That you’d be safe. Besides, he had tried to get you out of it by making another bet with you, but he knew that you wouldn’t humour him the second he saw your team arrive.

He presses his foot down on the accelerator, watching the clouds ahead of them. Something is going to form. He knows it. He just hopes it’s a good one, something worth chasing.

In the passenger seat, Boone is keeping a good eye on the clouds to the east. He’s filming as well, live streaming as usual.

“You were right, Ty,” Boone says, pointing the camera out the window towards the east. “That one’s gonna give us nothing. It’s already disappearing.”

Tyler lets out a breath of relief. You’re out of harms way and even though he knows you’d be annoyed at him if you ever found out, he can’t seem to find it in himself to feel bad about the fact. He had felt bad about the bet when you’d been talking to him, but now he realises that keeping the bet was a good idea.

“This one’s gonna be a good one, I can feel it,” he says, eyeing the clouds above them.

Then, it happens – the tornado forms right in front of them. It’s already huge, bigger than any tornado Tyler has seen in the past few months.

Boone whoops in the seat beside him, moving the camera to film the tornado through the windshield.

“Just look at that beauty!” He exclaims.

Tyler can’t keep the smile off of his face as they drive closer to it. He stops the car once they get close enough, anchoring it to the ground as usual, watching as it gets closer and closer to the truck.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” Tyler yells, straight to the camera that Boone is holding in his face. “Let’s do this!”

It’s only a split second later that his heart drops to his stomach. He watches as the tornado, once coming right towards them, veers off course. It’s heading east. And it’s growing in size.

He looks out of the passenger window and in the distance, he can see your truck. It’s white, so bright under the dark sky. You’re going to be right in its path.

He sent you in the wrong direction to try and get you out of harms way, and instead he’s sent you in the exact direction the tornado is heading. There’s no way you can get out of its path in time.

Tyler suddenly feels like he can barely breathe.

“Turn the camera off, Boone,” he commands, and then he’s removing the anchors from the ground and pressing his foot down onto the accelerator before he can even really think about it, even though there’s no way he can reach you in time with how quickly the tornado is moving towards you.

Boone, thankfully, listens, ending the stream, putting the camera down and picking up the radio to try and reach you. He’s realised what’s happening. Tyler tries to ignore the panic he feels when there’s no answer.

He can’t lose you like this. Not now. Not when he never really even had you. Not when you didn’t even know the way he felt about you. He’d been an asshole, a fool, making that bet. If he hadn’t, none of this would have happened.

“Please be okay, please be okay.” He mutters it under his breath like it’s a mantra. He doesn’t care what Boone thinks. If he says it enough, maybe he can make it come true.

—

You’ve seen tornadoes before. You’ve been close to them before. But you’ve never had one quite this size coming straight at you. You hadn’t expected this.

When Tyler sent you east, Robbie had checked the radar and noticed that the cells out here were much less likely to form a tornado compared to the ones west. You’d gone anyway, figuring you’d try your chances, leaving Ally, Harry and the rest of your team a little further back, trying to get as close as you could before you realised your tornado was going to amount to nothing at all.

You and Robbie had been watching the tornado forming west of you, wishing you had been able to chase that one rather than do what the Tornado Wranglers told you.

And then, it changed course.

“Get out of the car! We need to run!” Robbie undoes his seatbelt as he speaks and it doesn’t take you long to follow suit, undoing your own and jumping out of the truck.

He takes off at a run ahead of you just as the rain begins.

Your heart is beating faster in your chest than you think it ever has before. Your legs burn at the pace you’re running, your feet sinking into and skidding through the muddy paddock thanks to the heavy rain last night and the rain growing even heavier now. It slows you down, but your adrenaline pushes you faster. You can’t stop, not now. Not when there’s a possible EF4 on your tail, getting closer to you with every breath you take.

You make a mistake, then, deciding to look back at it.

The sight of it only makes you run faster, but when you turn back, fear strikes through your system as you realise you can’t see Robbie anymore.

The wind isn’t strong enough to have pulled him back into it, not when he was running ahead of you, but you can’t help but think of the worst possible scenario as your gaze narrows in on a gully just ahead of you. Maybe he made it there before you and now he’s just waiting.

The wind from the tornado picks up trees and branches and other debris, sending things spinning through the air. You feel something slice across your leg and cry out at the sudden pain, but there’s no time to inspect the damage as you slide down the small hill into the gully, the mud going everywhere as you hit the bottom.

You don’t even have time to scan for Robbie as you press yourself down onto the ground of the gully, covering your head with your hands and pressing your face into the ground. You try to ignore the feeling of the mud and dirt on your skin, the throbbing pain in your leg, the rain pelting down on your back, soaking you to the bone, and try to keep breathing steadily despite being out of breath from the run and the adrenaline.

You can’t panic now. If you panic now, you’re dead.

The tornado gets closer and you can hear it. Hear the wind rushing through the air, hear the sound of trees being ripped out of the ground. Hear the crashing sound of the truck being picked up and thrown by it.

Everything is okay, you tell yourself, like a mantra. Everything is going to be okay. Because if you tell yourself enough, maybe it will come true.

—

By the time Tyler gets to the place where your truck had been, the tornado is gone and so is your truck. He barely even has time to put his own truck into park before he’s jumping out of it and calling your name.

Boone is quick to follow him.

Tyler’s eyes narrow in on something in the distance – the remnants of your truck. It’s sitting upside down, the cab crushed in and all the glass broken. Even some of the wheels are missing. His heart almost stops.

No, you would have been smart enough to get out. You wouldn’t have stayed in the truck. He knows that. He believes that. It was one of the first things any storm chaser learnt – never stay in your car, it’s better to take your chances outside of it.

He stops in the middle of the field and takes a long, deep breath to try and calm himself down when he hears the sound of someone yelling out.

“Hey, I need some help over here!”

It’s a male voice, not belonging to you, which is the first sign that makes Tyler realise something is wrong. He recognises Robbie immediately, even though he’s drenched in rain and covered in mud and blood.

Boone runs off towards him and Tyler follows.

“Where is she?” He cuts in as Boone begins asking Robbie where he’s been hurt. “Were you with her? Where is she?”

He knows he’s being a little irrational. He should be kinder, especially when he’s the reason Robbie was even in this tornado in the first place, but his mind is narrowed in on you, on making sure you’re okay. He’s never been more terrified that he’s lost you in his life.

“I don’t know,” Robbie shakes his head. “She was behind me, and then I jumped down into this little dam and she never came in after me.”

Tyler doesn’t let him say anything else before he takes off running. He knows Boone can handle Robbie. His only concern is finding you. He calls out your name again and again and again, willing you to respond to just one of them.

He only hears silence.

—

The second you wake up, you push yourself up, getting your face out of the mud and opening your eyes, trying to adjust them to the sudden brightness now that the tornado has disappeared.

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of someone calling out your name, but it sounds fuzzy, far away. Your head is spinning and you’re pretty sure you could be imagining it.

You put a hand up to the side of your face, feeling the sticky sensation of blood on your hands. Something must have hit your head and knocked you out during the tornado. You can only remember something hitting your leg as you’d slid down into the gully. How long have you been lying here? Minutes? Hours? Days, even?

Looking around, you can see the devastation caused by the tornado. There are trees and branches everywhere, and with the rain, it’s made it even muddier – and probably impossible to climb out of, especially with your injuries. You finally allow yourself to inspect your leg, noticing a deep cut across your shin, ripping your jeans. Your leg starts to throb as you finally allow yourself to recognise the pain.

With a deep breath, you try and push yourself to your feet. It’s slippery down here thanks to all the mud and rain, and you manage to stand for just a second before your leg buckles and sends you crashing back down. At least it’s a fairly soft landing.

You curse under your breath just as you hear movement above you. Your eyes flicker towards the direction of the sound, and when you see Tyler Owens appear at the edge of the gully just to the right of you, you nearly feel like you could cry.

“Tyler!” You manage to call out to him, though your voice is weak.

His head spins towards your voice, eyes widening as he sees you. You must look like a mess, covered in all the blood and dirt, but you knows he doesn’t care. Especially with the way he slides down into the gully and stumbles towards you, getting covered in mud himself in the process.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He falls to his knees in front of you, his hands moving to cup your cheeks and move your head from side to side. He’s quick to check the wound on your head where the blood is coming from. “You’re okay, darlin’, it doesn’t look too deep.”

You can see the panic in his eyes as he scans you, scans your whole body looking for injuries. You can also tell from the look on his face when he looks at your shin that your injury there is worrisome.

“It’s my fault,” Tyler shakes his head, refusing to move his hands from your cheeks. It’s as if you’ll fade away if he lets go. “I shouldn’t have told you to go east. I was just trying to get you out of the way of the tornado cause I felt that yours wasn’t gonna develop, but then ours changed course and it was heading straight towards you and I couldn’t get here fast enough and god, the idea of losing you, of never seeing you again, of never asking–”

“Tyler!”

He stops talking, having not even realised that he had let the situation get the better of him and had been rambling on. When he meets your eyes, you’re shocked to see that there are tears in his.

“You never call me by my first name.”

“I didn’t think I’d be able to get your attention if I didn’t.”

Your reach up and take one of his hands off of your face and weave your fingers between his. You don’t really know what you’re doing, exactly, but all you know is you need to comfort him. That and you’re shaking like a leaf and the feeling of holding his hand is like an anchor to the world. A reminder that you’re alive.

“I’m still here, Tyler. I’m all right.”

“You’re not,” he shakes his head. “You’re hurt, and it’s because of me–”

You take him by surprise as you reach up and place your own hand on his cheek. It’s only when you touch his face that you remember your hand is covered in blood and mud, but when you try and take it away, Tyler places his hand over the top of it. His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a long breath that feels to you that it’s something like relief.

The two of you stay there like that for what feels like an eternity but is really just a few minutes, soaking in the feeling of each others skin and coming to terms with the realisation that you’re alive.

“It’s not your fault, Tyler,” you mutter softly. “You couldn’t have known that tornado was going to change course and head straight for us. Just because that bet ended up landing us in the path of a probable EF4 doesn’t mean you’re the one to blame for it. I don’t blame you.”

He blinks his eyes open and stares at yours for a moment.

“Now, what were you saying about asking me something?” You try to change the subject.

There’s a look of something in Tyler’s eyes that you can’t quite place, but it drops off of his face instantly at your words and he lets out an awkward laugh. “I don’t think now’s the right time, darlin’,” he says. “Some other time, when you’re not bleeding and injured. We need to get you out of here and to a hospital.”

You shake your head, ignoring the fact that the movement makes you a little dizzy. “I could have just died and I would have never known what it is you wanted to ask me. So I want to know what it is right now.” You’re surprised at how strong your voice sounds, even though you don’t feel strong at all right now.

Tyler sighs and you can see by the look on his face that he’s giving in to you. “I was trying to get the courage to ask you out, was trying last night actually but I chickened out. You can be quite intimidating sometimes, you know that?”

For a moment, you just stare at Tyler.

“I thought I was the one who hit my head. Did you hit yours too?”

He lets out a soft laugh. “Something like that.”

“You need another reminder that we’re supposed to hate each other?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I think I’ve had enough reminders to last me a lifetime. But I’m done with pretending to hate you. With trying to convince my team that I dislike you so much. I know they know the truth. It doesn’t matter, even though you can’t stand me.”

You meet Tyler’s eyes and in them, you can see that he’s telling the truth. He doesn’t hate you, nor dislike you, nor anything similar. With the way he’s looking at you, the way he was calling your name, the way he panicked so much when he thought you were seriously hurt… he really was trying to ask you out. Just the thought of it makes that feeling rise in your stomach again, and for the first time you recognise the feeling for what it truly is – butterflies. You don’t get butterflies from people you hate.

“I don’t hate you, Tyler.”

You can see the surprise flash across his eyes.

“You don’t hate me?”

“You annoy the hell out of me and you drive me insane sometimes. But no. You fascinate me, and you make me laugh, and even though every member of my team hates you and your stupid red truck, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be in the passenger seat with you, driving head first into a tornado, and I nearly said yes when you asked me earlier.”

Tyler chuckles. “My truck is not stupid.”

“Does your passenger seat really have my name on it?”

“Embroidered it myself.”

You laugh, then, a real, full laugh, and Tyler can’t help but laugh as well at the absurdity of the situation. You’ve just survived a devastating tornado, you’re injured in more ways than one, Tyler Owens has just told you he likes you and you’ve come to the realisation that you like the fact that he does. And maybe, you like him a little bit too.

“We’re not gonna make it to that rodeo tonight, are we?” You ask, once the laughs subside.

Tyler shakes his head. “Rain check for the next one?”

“That’s how you’re asking me out?”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply before you both hear your names being called and look up just as Boone and Robbie appear at the top of the gully. Tyler turns around to look at them. They look relieved to have found you both, and you feel just as relieved to see that Robbie is alive and well, only a little battered just like you are. Even if you’re a little disappointed that your moment with Tyler was interrupted. It seems that happens more often than not lately.

“Is she okay?” Boone asks Tyler.

He nods. “Yeah, but she’s injured. We’re gonna need a hand out of here.”

“We got you,” Boone says.

—

“So, when are you asking me out properly, Owens?” You ask.

It’s been a week since the tornado and a week since you found out that Tyler Owens had been wanting to ask you out for months. Boone had stayed true to his word that day, using a rope and Tyler’s truck to pull you both up out of the gully.

Tyler had barely left your side since – even in the truck ride to the hospital. He usually hated letting anyone drive his truck other than himself, but that day he’d thrown the keys to Boone so he didn’t have to take any of his attention off of you. He’d stayed with you in the hospital as well, even when the rest of your team turned up to check on you and Robbie.

You were surprised at how quickly your teams had dropped their rivalry after the tornado. They’d clearly seen the way you and Tyler acted around each other, how things had changed after the tornado, even though both of you refused to give them details on what had happened when Tyler had found you in the gully.

It was something both of you were glad for.

“You can’t just ask me that,” Tyler says, kicking his legs up on the desk in the small motel room. Luckily, he’d taken off his muddy boots when he’d come inside to check on you. He had insisted you go back home to recover from your leg injury, but you’d refused.

“I can’t?” You ask from your spot on the bed, resting your leg up on some pillows. It had luckily not been too bad of an injury, just a reasonably deep cut that needed stitching and wrapping. You still had to be careful not to rip the stitches, which meant no storm chasing and only resting for the time being.

Tyler nods. “You made me admit the truth to you while we were both covered in mud and blood in the bottom of a wet, muddy gully. I’m not going to ask you out while you’re sitting on a motel room bed with an injured leg and stitches in your forehead. I’m classier than that.”

You snort. “You, classy?”

“From time to time,” he shrugs a shoulder.

You jokingly roll your eyes at him. “I’ll believe it when I see it. You know, you never actually explained what the other bet you wanted to make with me that day was. Was that something to do with asking me out as well?”

Tyler’s face broke out into a grin. “Maybe.”

“Of course,” you can’t help but laugh at the silly look on his face. “Are you at least going to ask me before I get swept up in another tornado?”

“Darlin’,” Tyler stands up and crosses the room until he’s standing right beside you. One of his hands reaches down and picks up yours, weaving his fingers in-between yours. “If you get swept up in a tornado, I’m going to be right beside you. I’m gonna be beside you for as long as you let me. For as long as I get. As long as I get, okay?”

He repeats it like a mantra. Because if he says it enough, he’s certain it will come true.

#tyler owens #twisters #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #twisters x reader #twisters x you #tyler owens imagine #twisters 2024 #twisters fanfic #tyler owens fanfic

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flwrstqr · 3 months ago

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⋆ . ˚ ⌇ ENHYPEN AND FAKE DATING YOU

﹙ 𝓹𝐥𝐨𝐭 ♡𝓹𝐫é𝐜𝐢𝐬 ⋆ when they fake date you 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 . . . 𝔀arning , kissing, petnames, skinship┊GENRE ‎⸝⸝⸝ imagines fluff head canons ◞ 𝓐𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄 ──

DANi NOTEZ ୨୧ loosing fic idea ㅠㅠ

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 (이희승)

heeseung’s hand slipped around your waist as you both smiled for the cameras, the flashes nearly blinding. “you’re really getting into this, aren’t you?” you whispered, trying to ignore how his touch felt a little too natural. “we have to sell it, don’t we?” heeseung grinned, leaning closer until his breath tickled your ear. “besides, you’re a pretty good fake girlfriend.” your heart skipped at the way his voice dropped, almost teasing. “fake, huh?” you shot back, glancing up at him. he raised an eyebrow, his grip tightening slightly. “unless you want to make it real.” you blinked, trying to read his expression, but the smirk playing on his lips. “you’re such a flirt,” you muttered, though your pulse quickened as he chuckled softly. “only for you.”

rest of the members below !!

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘 (박종성)

jay's arm wrapped around your shoulders as he pulled you closer, leaning in just enough to make it look convincing. “you don’t have to hold me so tight,” you whispered, glancing up at him with a playful smirk. “i’m just making sure they believe it,” he said, his voice low, though the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying to hide a smile. “and maybe i don’t mind,” he added, teasing. your heart skipped a beat, and you tried to act unfazed. “you’re enjoying this way too much, aren’t you?” he chuckled softly, his fingers brushing against your arm. “well, can you blame me? fake dating you isn’t so bad.” rolling your eyes, you nudged him lightly. “just stick to the plan, romeo.” but as his gaze lingered on you a moment longer, you wondered if pretending was starting to feel a bit too real.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 (심재윤)

jake’s fingers laced with yours, his grip firm but warm as he leaned in close. “you’re really committed to this, huh?” you whispered, feeling your cheeks heat up. he smirked, his thumb brushing the back of your hand. “well, i have to make it believable, don’t i?” he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “besides, it’s not that hard pretending to be with you.” you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat. “you’re enjoying this way too much.” he laughed softly, leaning closer until his lips were inches from your ear. “maybe i am. what if i wasn’t pretending?” your breath hitched, and you shot him a side glance. “don’t get any ideas, sim.” his smile widened, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “too late for that, angel.”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 (박성훈)

sunghoon’s hand rested lightly on your waist as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. “ready?” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. you nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart pounded in your chest. it was supposed to be just a kiss, just for show, but as his lips met yours, something inside you shifted. the kiss lingered longer than expected. for a moment, you forgot it was all pretend. when he pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours, eyes still closed, he whispered, “we really sold that, huh?” you forced a smile, as you wished for it to be real. “yeah… just acting.” but deep down, you knew you were fooling yourself more than anyone else.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 (김선우)

“can you stop staring at me like that?” you laugh, trying to keep a straight face as sunoo leans in a little too close. “we’re supposed to be convincing people we’re actually dating.” he gives you a playful grin, eyes sparkling. “what if i am staring at you? wouldn't be so bad, right?” you feel your cheeks heat up, quickly looking away. “no one can know this is fake. i can’t have my friends thinking i'm into you.” he pretends to look hurt. “why wouldn’t you be? i mean, come on, look at me!” rolling your eyes, you nudge him. “just hold my hand and act normal.” he takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours effortlessly

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 (양정원)

“you know, you don’t have to stand so close,” you mumble as jungwon steps closer, his arm casually draped around your waist. “what? we’re supposed to look like a couple, right?” he smirks, pulling you in tighter. you can feel your heart race, his hand resting just a little lower than you'd expect. “yeah, but not that close,” you whisper, glancing up at him. he leans down, his face only inches from yours. “relax, you’re acting like you’ve never been this close to me before,” he teases, his breath warm against your cheek. “i haven’t,” you mutter, avoiding his gaze. he chuckles, his fingers brushing lightly against your side. “well, you’re doing great for a first-timer. maybe we should practice more often.” your face flushes, and you playfully shove him. “you wish.” he winks, pulling you back in. “just admit it—you’re getting used to this.”

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 (西村力)

“come on, you’re not even trying,” riki teases, slinging his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “we're supposed to look like we’re dating, remember?” you roll your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth of his body pressed against yours. “i am trying! you’re the one being extra,” you mutter, feeling your heart speed up when his hand starts tracing light circles on your arm. “extra? i’m just being convincing,” he smirks, leaning down to whisper in your ear, his breath tickling your skin. “unless you’re nervous being this close to me.” you scoff, but your flushed face betrays you. “nervous? please.” he laughs, his voice low as his hand moves to your waist. “admit it, you’re liking this a little too much.” you nudge him, trying to hide your embarrassment. “keep dreaming.” with a grin, he tugs you even closer. “maybe i will.”

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simplyholl · 9 days ago

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Home For Christmas

Summary: When your mom puts pressure on you to bring a boyfriend home for Christmas, you turn to Bucky for help.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Southern F. Reader

Warnings: Reader is Southern. Smut. 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI. Fake dating. Maybe a little blasphemous? Fingering in a church. Getting fucked by a peppermint stick.

*A/N: I am Southern. I couldn’t get the idea of bringing Bucky home to the South for Christmas out of my head so this was born. Sorry if this is shit. I’m just getting back into writing again.

Mammaw = grandma

Pappaw = grandpa

^^ this is the peppermint sticks I’m talking about in the fic. I don’t know what they are really called.

See My Masterlist Here

The compound was bustling with Avengers and employees getting ready for the holidays. Everyone was going home or leaving with another member of the team. Everyone except for Bucky. He was quiet and kept to himself most of the time.

He is a grumpy asshole usually, so you just avoided him. You didn’t blame him for his behavior, you’d be the same if you were tortured and brainwashed by Hydra for decades. But the thought of him being alone in the huge, empty walls of the Avenger Compound pulled at your heartstrings. You couldn't leave without extending an invitation to him. There was an ulterior motive too. You were nice but he was a lot to deal with. He was sitting alone in the common room, reading a book when you approach him.

"Hey, do you have a minute?" You ask, looking a little weary as you walk towards him. He raises an eyebrow, locating his bookmark and placing it inside his book as he closes it. "So I know we aren’t exactly friends, but I couldn't leave without asking. Do you want to spend Christmas with me and my family?" Bucky's eyebrows furrow together as he looks at you. "You're serious?" He asks, resting his chin on his fist.

You nod your head, waiting for his answer. "Why would I want to do that?" It was a fair question; one you had even expected. "I just thought you might want to have some company, have a home cooked meal. Nobody should have to spend Christmas alone." He looks at you suspiciously, “What’s the catch?”

You bite your lip, damn he was good at reading you. “Okay, you got me. So my momma has been hounding me about finding a nice man and settling down. Which is crazy. I’m an Avenger and that’s not enough for her. But she is dead set on grand babies and planning a wedding. So I might have lied and told her I had a boyfriend to get her off my back. I also might have told her I’d be bringing him home with me. So, if you come with me maybe you could help me out and pretend to be my boyfriend?”

Bucky laughs, a low gutteral sound escaping him. “No way in hell, princess.” He smirks. “I’ll stay here, order takeout, and get a break from all of you idiots. Why would I want to go home with you and play the part of your doting boyfriend? We barely talk.” You sigh. He made a good point. And if the shoe was on the other foot, you wouldn’t want to help him either.

But you were desperate. You didn’t want to disappoint your mom. She was really excited that you had a serious boyfriend. So you sink to your knees in front of Bucky, putting on the biggest pouty face you could muster. You bat your eyelashes and try to work up a few tears, but they wouldn’t come. “Please Bucky, I’m begging you. I’ll do anything.”

You look into his blue eyes hoping this would work. There had to be something he wanted. Then you saw it, a little flicker of something in his eyes. “Anything?” He asks with a smirk. “Yes. Name it and it’s yours. I’ll do your laundry for a month. I’ll scrub your suit after missions. I’ll cook all your meals. Whatever you want.”

Bucky smiles wolfishly at you, his flesh hand coming up to your face. He cups your cheek, looking into your eyes before dropping his gaze down to your lips. His thumb rubs against your bottom lip as he holds his gaze on you. “So I go home with you, spend Christmas with your family and pretend I’m your boyfriend?”

“Yes, my very serious boyfriend who could pop the question at any time.” I add making sure he knew what I expected. “Fine, I’ll do it.” You look a little surprised but quickly hide it. You thought it would take more convincing. “But I want boyfriend privileges.”

“What does that mean?” You ask, a confused expression on your face. “It means if I’m going to pretend to be your boyfriend I get to enjoy everything a boyfriend would, including having sex with you.” He smirks. Your eyes go wide. “You want to have sex with me? You don’t even like me.”

“You’re right. But I want you. If you want me to play the part then that’s my condition.” You don’t have to think about it, not really. You have eyes. Bucky is a handsome man. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to sleep with him too. But you didn’t want him to know you were eager so you pretended like you were thinking about his offer. Instead you were thinking about his metal hand wrapped around your throat. “Deal.” You stick your hand out to him and he shakes it.

You were an idiot. That was the only explanation you had. You were five hours into a ten and a half hour car ride. The gps kept adding minutes to the trip and traffic was crazy. You should have booked a flight, but you wanted to drive. Now, you were dealing with an aggravated super soldier who was cussing the other drivers on the interstate. You didn’t dare complain when he went over the speed limit or when he gave the finger as he was passing another car. But you did sneak glances every few seconds at him.

He was so hot all riled up like this. The blue vein in his neck throbbing, the wild look in his eyes, the death grip he had on the steering wheel. You had to hold yourself back from offering to blow him right here in the car.

The trip down south was long and almost torturous. When Bucky wasn’t yelling at the other drivers, he was fighting with you. But you survived. When you see the big sign welcoming you to your home state, you couldn’t contain your excitement. You point out all your old hang outs, telling Bucky stories about your childhood as you drove through your town. Finally, he pulls into your driveway. Your Mom’s, Mammaw’s, and Aunt’s houses were all decorated for Christmas. You loved that they were all neighbors. Most of your family lives pretty close by.

You get out of the car, letting the cool air hit you. You take in your surroundings. The trees were bare from shedding their leaves but it was still beautiful here. Bucky gets out doing the same. You both carry your bags to your old childhood bedroom that your mom had set up to accommodate the two of you. You give Bucky a tour since nobody was home. He stops to look at the big Christmas tree with presents underneath. He looks at the ornaments, turning over one you had made in Sunday School when you were a little girl. He looks like he is about to make some smart ass remark when he freezes.

His eyes land on something and you follow his gaze to the stockings your mom hung up. They were all red velvet with your family’s names embroidered in gold cursive on them. They were all filled to the brim, some candy poking out of the top. Bucky touches one gently, a look of disbelief on his face. Then you see it too. Your mom had gotten him a stocking. It was hung right beside yours. And in the same gold letters as everyone else’s, ‘Bucky’ was on it and it was overflowing more than the others.

“I’ve never had a stocking like this.” He admits quietly. “We were poor and my ma just got us oranges and apples. She would bake a cake and we might get one gift . A toy gun for me, a doll for my sister. Nothing like this.” You grab his flesh hand, rubbing your thumb along the top of it. You’re interrupted when your mom comes in. Her eagle eyes on your hand in Bucky’s, a huge smile on her face.

You run to her, giving her a big hug. “Momma, this is my boyfriend, Bucky.” You gesture to him, and he walks over shaking her hand. “I’m James Barnes, ma’am. But you can call me Bucky.” He flashes her a huge smile and she blushes. You roll your eyes. He was really laying it on thick.

After you caught up with her and Bucky answered all of her questions, you all go over to your Mammaw’s house. She was watching Bonanza on tv. She loves those old western shows. She and Bucky talked for ages about them. Apparently, he was a fan too. You and your mom carried in wood for her stove while he kept her company. “We are gonna have to borrow the neighbor’s wood splitter again. We have almost used up all her chopped wood.” Your mom tells you.

“I can split it.” Bucky offers. You give him a surprised look. “You will?” He nods his head. “Just show me where everything is. I’ll take care of it.” You shrug and take him outside. Showing him where he can bust the wood. You give him a an axe and some old work gloves before heading inside to watch westerns.

After an hour, you go outside to check on him and bring him some water. When you go back in, you find your mom and Mammaw at the window giggling like school girls. “What?” You ask. Your mom motions you over and you look out the window just in time to see Bucky take his black henley off. His muscles are slick with sweat. He swings the axe down forcefully and the muscles in his back move sinfully. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head.

You hear your Mammaw gasp as he continues chopping the wood. Your mom pats you on the back, “You did great, honey.” You giggle, actually giggle. You can’t help it. He looks incredible and you’re glad he came up with the whole sex idea or else you would put your pride aside and beg him to fuck you. He busts the last piece, propping the axe up against the wood pile and heading toward the house. You’ve never seen your Mammaw run so fast to get back in her rocking chair.

You take Bucky to visit your Pappaw. He showed him his gun collection. Which you think was his way of threatening him. Your pappaw sends you out to get lunch for everyone, but keeps Bucky there with him. You’d love to be a fly on the wall. Pappaw is probably giving him the whole ‘what are your intentions with my granddaughter’ talk. When you left, he shook Bucky’s hand and told you he was a fine young man. So their talk must have went well.

The next night, you and Bucky were going with your mom to watch the church Christmas program. That was one thing about your mom, she raised you to be a Southern Baptist and you were expected to go to church if you were home. This time was no different. You put on a long sleeve dress, fix your hair, and put on a little mascara. Bucky is wearing dark jeans and a long sleeve button up. Your sister, her boyfriend, your Mammaw and your Pappaw were all at the church too. They sat on your mom’s usual pew, three up from the back on the left side.

There wasn’t any room for you and Bucky so you sat behind them. The church was unusually full, but they were expecting a lot of people to come. That’s what happens when there’s a Christmas program and a dinner afterward. People loved free food. All the little old ladies you went to church with your whole life came over to gawk at Bucky.

They were giving him peppermints and hard candies from the bottoms of their pocket books. They were hugging him, and feeling his muscles. They all told you how good you had done in getting a man like him. They told him how handsome he was. They pinched his cheeks. And one even pretended like she needed help walking back to her pew. But you had seen her just moments ago running over to scold a child who was trying to stick his finger in the cake she baked for after the program. Bucky took her arm and led her to the front of the church. Her grip on his muscled arm tight the whole time.

Finally the choir started singing and the program begins. You shivered, regretting your decision to not wear tights. The temperature in the church varies. It was either freezing or you were sweating. You grab a blanket off the back of your mom’s pew and laid it on your lap. You scoot closer to Bucky, hoping his body heat would help.

The children get up to start their part of the program. Bucky lifts the blanket and puts it over his left side, his metal hand underneath it. Your breath hitches when you feel the cold metal of his hand on your bare thigh. You look at him questioningly. He smiles and winks then turns his attention back to the children singing. His hand moves higher until it stops at the edge of your panties. Your eyes go wide and you put your hand over his, a silent plea to stop.

He reaches over with his flesh hand and moves your hand away. He moves his cool fingers under your panties, sliding them against your center. He gathers your slick, bringing it up to your clit and swirling his vibranium thumb. You grip his thigh and try to pay attention to the program. He slides two fingers inside you and you bite your lip to stifle the moan that escapes you. You’ve never been more thankful for the kids’ loud off key singing.

You look around to make sure no one is paying attention to you. Thankfully everyone is watching the program or taking pictures of the kids. You lay your head against his shoulder, making it look like you were cuddling your boyfriend enjoying the Christmas show. When you were really just trying to hide your face as it contorts in pleasure. Bucky’s fingers set a brutal pace as his cool thumb worked your clit. It was all too much. How he looked yesterday chopping the wood, how everyone loved him, the way he was taking you apart in the one place he absolutely shouldn’t. One more curl of his fingers and swipe to your clit and you were falling apart on Bucky’s fingers in church with your face buried in his shirt.

Finally your last day home arrived, Christmas Day. Your mom made a huge breakfast that your family came over to eat. Then you sat in front of the tree to open presents. You all started with your stockings. Truthfully, you were more excited to watch Bucky open his than to see what was in yours. He dumped it out. Candy, chocolates, candy canes, all kinds of treats spilled on the floor. Bucky’s whole face lit up in a smile. He had never looked more handsome.

He opened the gifts your mom got him, a couple shirts and a watch. He thanked her graciously. Then you hand him the gift you were eager to surprise him with. You ordered it online and had it shipped to your mom’s house and she wrapped it for you. He looks surprised as he opens it, a record player and some old records you had to pay an arm and a leg for. They were hard to find too. You asked Steve what music Bucky liked back in the day and you searched for days to find them on vinyl.

He pulls you in for a hug. “This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.” He whispers in your ear. You hold him tighter. The rest of the day is spent watching Christmas movies and eating cookies. Your mom set up a hot chocolate bar on the table with marshmallows, whip cream, sprinkles and peppermint sticks. It was a cute idea she got from Pinterest.

That night, you hug your mom goodnight as she heads to bed. You and Bucky stay up a little longer. Bucky was acting a little weird. He went out to the shed where your mom stored her Christmas decorations and he was being secretive. When you asked about it, he told you it was a surprise. So you stopped asking questions and tried to finish watching The Year Without A Santa Claus. When it was over, you went to your childhood bedroom where Bucky had been for a while.

“Can I come in yet?” You ask as you stick your head in the doorway. When Bucky nods, you shut and lock the door behind you. “Strip.” He commands. You don’t hesitate. You would walk on hot coals barefoot if he asked you to. You place all your clothes in a pile on the floor and stand bare before him. “Get on the bed.” He gestures with his vibranium finger. You lay down and watch as he pulls something out from under the bed. Old Christmas lights that your mom didn’t use this year.

Bucky must have been in here untangling them. He holds your wrists above your head and wraps the lights around them. Then he brings it down your arms and to your chest. He binds it around your breasts and over your stomach. You try to move your wrists, but it’s too tight. Not enough to hurt but maybe a little uncomfortable.

He stands at the foot of the bed admiring you. “Perfect.” He grabs the mug of peppermint sticks your mom had set out off the dresser, twirling one between his fingers. He lays on the bed between your legs pressing a kiss to inside your thigh. You feel his scruffy cheeks against your thighs and you shiver. He leans his head down and licks up your center. Bucky’s flesh hand grabs your thigh, spreading your legs wider.

He looks up at you from between your thighs. His blue eyes never leaving yours as he puts the peppermint stick in his mouth. He twirls it between his lips, getting it wet. He removes it with a plop, and he brings it down, sliding it inside you with ease. His warm tongue flicks your clit, the peppermint making it tingle.

You moan as he swirls his skilled muscle around you. Bucky works the peppermint stick slowly moving it in and out. Each time he puts it back inside you, he angles it to reach that spot that makes you see stars and your toes curl. He rolls his tongue over you as he pumps the peppermint stick faster.

You arch your back and try to get closer to him. You want to reach down and tangle your fingers in his hair while he tastes you. But you can’t move your arms because of the Christmas lights he tied you with. Bucky removes the peppermint stick and brings it to his mouth, sucking your arousal off it. He moans, looking in your eyes as he slurps you off it.

He lowers his head again, his now icy mouth closing around your clit. He sucks you between his lips, his tongue flicking against it gently. You writhe underneath him as he holds your hips down with his metal arm. He slides the peppermint stick back inside you as his lips tug your clit. He moans against you and that’s your undoing. You cry out as your orgasm crashes through you, wrecking you. Bucky keeps up the good work until your shuddering subsides.

The next morning, you both tell your family goodbye. Bucky packs all your belongings into the car and you start the long journey back to the compound. This time instead of yelling at the other drivers, Bucky holds your hand the whole way. “I can’t wait to come back next year.” He tells you with a huge smile on his face.

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dixonzzgirl · 1 year ago

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imagine…

finding daryl a really cool zippo lighter and seeing him mindlessly flick it open and close throughout the day.

sitting with your feet in his lap while you both relax on the porch swing (alexandria era).

pinky linking instead of full on hand holding.

finally getting to the playful butt swat stage of your relationship + him winding up his t-shirt and chasing you around the house.

him praising you whenever you kill an animal: “nice shot, girl.” “look at you.“ “atta girl.”

reading a book with your legs crossed on his work bench as he tinkers with his bike.

getting a cold and when daryl dips down to kiss your lips, you turn your head away from him. “daryl, don’t! i don’t wanna get you sick!” and then he grabs your chin and presses a firm kiss on your lips anyway.

daryl finds a cowboy hat and drops it on your head. you let out a giggle. “what’s that saying? save a horse, ride a cowboy?” you smirk. his cheeks darken and he turns away from you. “think ya’ got tha’ backwards..” he drawls. “no? pretty sure i’m right…”

eating a lollipop and daryl walks right up and pulls it out of your mouth and puts it in his (or vise versa).

having a journal that you can both communicate in. we all know daryl isn’t the best at communicating his feelings verbally and maybe you aren’t either, so you just write back and forth to each other.

i love the journal idea because you would use it for everything. daryl has to be up early to help rick with something? he’ll scribble a quick “helping rick. come find me.” and as soon as you wake up and feel the void in bed beside you, you go right to the journal.

him getting hard as fuck when you give shane attitude (farm era).

you get into an accident on a run and ending up losing a lot of blood and you wake up later in the infirmary. “ya’ lost a lotta blood,” he says. “then i bet you did too…” you smiled groggily knowing that he gave you some of his (he’s a universal donor).

rubbing aloe vera on his sunburnt skin and he just lets out these sexy ass heavy breaths.

him watching you get visibly frustrated when someone else is helping you with something, but not doing it the way you want it done, so daryl steps in and tells them to get lost.

daryl giving you cold medicine while you’re sick and he makes you take it in front of him and open your mouth to show him that you swallowed it.

a/n: these are my favorite scenarios to imagine when I'm in class :) if you wanna use any of these ideas for a fic, tag me! i'd love to see them!

5K notes · View notes

briefinquiries · 5 months ago

Text

Tyler Owens x Reader: Chase Your Fears

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

Word count: 11k

Warnings: tornado mention

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

“What is that?”

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

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

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

“Is that a tornado?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We should call Mom–”

“No, we definitely should not.”

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

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

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

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

“We should call Dad then–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know–”

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

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

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

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

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

“What?!” he practically screamed.

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

“How do you know that?!”

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

“Discovery channel?!”

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

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

“Run where?”

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

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

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

“Can we make it?” your brother asked.

You nodded. “We’ll make it.”

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

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

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

“What?” you screamed over the wind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re NOT okay!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing hurts? You’re okay?”

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

“Are you okay?” you asked him.

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

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

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

“I’m okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God, I’m so sorry–” you said.

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

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

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

“New Hampshire,” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You chase tornadoes?” your brother exclaimed.

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

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

“That alright with you?” Tyler asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She answered after only a couple of rings.

“Hi honey, how are things going?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who is this guy?”

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

You heard her exhale a sharp breath.

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

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

The pool of guilt grew larger inside your chest.

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

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

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

“I love you,” she assured you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my God, what?” he gasped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re near Stillwater,” Tyler replied.

You repeated it back to your dad.

“Okay, who’s there helping you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You immediately began shaking your head. “No–”

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

“Dad–” you protested.

But he insisted.

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

Tyler’s eyebrow raised gently at the gesture.

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

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

You nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

With that, Tyler passed you your phone back.

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

“Dad–”

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

…

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

“You live here?” you asked in awe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds great,” you replied.

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

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

Cool was one word for him, you thought.

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With that, he was disappearing out the back door.

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

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

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

Or at least it had been for you…

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please,” he said, flashing his teeth.

“You got it,” Tyler chuckled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You knew it was coming,” you challenged.

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

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

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

“Tornado wrangler?” you repeated skeptically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

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

“EF 4?” you asked cluelessly.

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

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

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

“Today was an EF1,” Tyler answered.

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

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

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

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

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sure?” he asked warily.

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

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

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

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

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

Everyone was okay.

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

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

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

Tyler chuckled. “Alright, be right back.”

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

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

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

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

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

Tyler grinned. “Fair enough, New Hampshire.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m fine,” you said quickly.

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

“I’m just tired,” you lied.

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

“Okay– yeah, that’s a good idea.”

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

“Tyler?”

He spun around quickly.

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

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

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

…

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

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

“Hey!” you screamed. “We gotta go!”

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

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

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

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

You screamed–

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

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

You screamed louder–

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

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

“Tyler–” you croaked.

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

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

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

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

“Just do it with me.”

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

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

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

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

“I’m so–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded before taking a seat at the island.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I might.”

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

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

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

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

It felt so final.

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Or not,” your brother piped in.

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

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

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

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

God, you hated being afraid.

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wanted to stay–

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

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

“You came back,” he observed.

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

“Why?” he dared to ask.

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

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

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

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

“Will you shut up and please just kiss–”

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

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

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

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drewharrisonwriter · 3 months ago

Text

Softer

Status: One Shot, Complete.

Pairings: No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader

Summary: Marriage has been good to Joel—he’s happier, softer, and maybe a little pudgier.

Word Count: 1,592 words

Warnings: Explicit sexual content (18+), dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex (hehe), mentions of weight gain, body appreciation, strong language

A/N: This fic was written for @beefrobeefcal’s Married Joel Sits on You Challenge! Am I too late for this challenge? 😅 Please forgive me for any mistakes, English is not my first language and it's my first time joining such a challenge, and I utterly enjoyed it. Thank you so much Beefro for this 💖

The prompt was: "Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline."

P.S. Do you enjoy my writing? If so, I’d truly appreciate any support through comments, likes, and reblogs! If you’re able, donations or writing commissions would also mean the world to me as I’m currently managing everything from my phone due to financial constraints. You can donate here or DM me your commission ideas. Thank you so much for your love and support! 💜

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Joel adjusted his sunglasses, glancing at his reflection in the mirrored elevator walls. It was late afternoon, and they’d just come back up from the beach to their hotel room. He scratched his beard, tugging his shirt down over his belly, feeling the fabric cling just a little too snugly.

Tommy’s teasing echoed in his mind. "You packin’ some extra cargo these days, big brother?" The little shit had poked his side earlier as they lounged by the beach, laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world.

"Asshole," Joel muttered under his breath.

You glanced up at him, curious. "What’s that, honey?"

Joel shook his head, giving you a half-smile. "Nothin’, sweetheart. Just thinkin'." He hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you close as the elevator doors slid open. You walked out together, your hand slipping down to his lower back as you strolled through the quiet hallway.

“Tommy’s words still botherin’ you?” you asked softly, your voice coming off with gentle teasing. You gave his belly a playful squeeze. “He’s full of shit, Joel. I love you like this. Tommy don’t know what he’s talkin’ about.”

Joel grunted in response, though a small smile tugged at his lips. He didn’t say anything as you continued walking, but you could feel the tension in his body slowly easing under your touch.

Once you reached your suite, Joel swiped the keycard, and you both rushed inside, quickly locking the door behind you. You double-checked the lock, raising an eyebrow at him. “You sure you locked it, Joel? You know how those girls are… Wouldn’t put it past Sarah or Ellie to barge in at the wrong moment.”

Joel let out a low chuckle, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you close. “I ain’t paid this much for a vacation just to get interrupted when I’m tryin’ to make another baby with my hot wife,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. “Trust me, darlin’. That door ain’t budging.”

A playful grin tugged at your lips as you teased, “Baby, aren’t you a little old for a newborn?”

Joel cut his eyes at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re real funny, you know that?” He dipped his head, brushing his lips against yours. “Doesn’t matter how old I am. If it were up to me, I’d keep you pregnant all the damn time.”

Your body flushed at his words, the heat between you flaring with the roughness in his tone. “Yeah?” you whispered, your voice thick with need. “You’d keep me pregnant, huh?”

Joel’s hands slid down to your ass, squeezing as he pulled you close. “Damn right. We could start right now if you want,” he growled, kissing the side of your neck. “Or maybe after a couple more vacations like this one.” His lips traveled lower, sucking a mark just beneath your ear.

Your breath caught as you smiled, running your fingers through his hair. “I don’t mind more vacations first,” you teased, your hands wandering down his back as the two of you continued to make out as you made your way toward the bed.

Joel’s large frame practically caged you in as he guided you down onto the plush mattress. You tugged at his shirt, pulling it off as he hovered over you, his body solid and warm. His fingers made quick work of your bikini top, tossing it aside.

As he leaned over you, your hand ghosted over his once-firm stomach. Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline.

“You look so good…” you hummed.

Joel’s expression softened for a moment, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he kissed you. “You mean I’ve gone fat?” He grinned before leaning in, his lips grazing your ear.

You laughed, cupping his face. “I love it,” you assured him, pulling him in for another kiss, deeper this time.

As you kissed, Joel’s hand slid between your legs, fingers dipping into the wet heat between your thighs. “Goddamn, baby,” he groaned against your mouth, his fingers teasing your entrance before sliding two thick digits inside you, curling them just right.

Your body jerked at the sensation, and you whimpered softly, “Jesus, Joel!” It’s pretty good and scary at the same time that he knows exactly where and where to curl his fingers inside you to hit that soft spot that makes you see stars.

His fingers worked inside you, while drawing slow circles on your clit with his thumb that had your hips bucking up toward him. “So needy,” he murmured, “But you’re gonna have to wait, sweetheart. Wanna take my time with you.”

You gasped, head falling back against the bed as he worked you over, his free hand holding your hip steady. The rough pad of his thumb brushed over your clit, and the pressure was just enough to send sparks flying through your body. “Fuck, Joel…”

Joel growled, his mouth closing over your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple before sucking it into his mouth. You moaned at the sensation, your body arching into his touch as his fingers continued their slow, torturous rhythm inside you.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging hard as the pleasure built deep in your core. He kissed his way back up to your lips, his beard rough against your skin as he murmured, “You’re gonna cum for me, baby. But not yet.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and your body trembled beneath him as he finally pulled his fingers out, leaving you gasping for breath.

“I need you, Joel,” you whimpered, your voice trembling with need. “Please…”

Joel positioned himself between your legs, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. “You’re gonna take every inch of me, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust. “Gonna bury myself so deep inside you, I’ll be the only thing you can feel.”

With one slow, deliberate thrust, Joel buried himself to the hilt, his cock stretching you wide as his blunt tip kissed your cervix. You gasped, your hands flying to his shoulders, clinging to him as he held himself still, giving you a moment to adjust.

“Fuck, baby,” Joel groaned, his forehead pressed against yours as he began to move, each slow thrust hitting deeper than the last. “You feel so good… so fuckin’ tight around me.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he picked up the pace, his cock dragging against every nerve inside you, setting your body on fire. “Joel…” you gasped, your voice breathless.

He leaned down, his lips closing over one of your nipples again, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak before sucking hard. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, and you moaned, your hips rolling up to meet each of his thrusts.

Joel groaned, his hand sliding between your bodies to rub slow circles on your clit. “Cum for me, baby,” he growled, his voice rough and commanding. “Wanna feel you cum all over my cock.”

Your body responded instantly, the tension snapping as your orgasm crashed over you. You cried out, your walls clenching tight around him, your vision going white as a wave of pleasure rippled through you.

Joel’s hips stuttered as you came, and with a deep groan, he buried himself to the hilt one last time, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his release. He collapsed on top of you, both of you panting and trembling from the intensity of it all.

After a few moments, Joel gently rolled off you, still catching his breath as he sat up on the edge of the bed. “Don’t move, darlin’,” he murmured, brushing a kiss to your forehead before disappearing into the bathroom. He returned moments later with a warm, damp towel, gently cleaning you up with tender strokes.

“C’mere,” Joel whispered, tossing the towel aside and pulling you into his arms. You curled up against his chest, his warmth and steady heartbeat lulling you into a blissful daze. He kissed the top of your head, his large hand rubbing slow circles on your back.

“You okay, sweetheart?”You smiled sleepily, nuzzling into his chest and just humming your reply.

Joel chuckled, brushing a hand through your hair. “Good thing we locked that door. Last thing I need is Sarah or Ellie walkin’ in while we’re busy.”

You snickered, burying your face into his chest with a soft laugh. “We’ve done a good job avoidin’ that so far.”

Joel sighed contentedly, running his hand along your back. “Yeah, but I swear, if they catch us one day, Tommy’s gonna have a field day. He’s already givin’ me shit about puttin’ on a little weight.”

You laughed harder, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him, your hand slowly sliding down to his soft belly. “This pudge’s the proof you’re enjoyin’ yourself, Joel.”

Joel chuckled, his chest rumbling as he pulled you closer. “Hell, maybe you’re right,” he admitted with a smirk. “Can’t say I’m complainin’, though.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I love you like this. Softer, but still strong.”

Joel squeezed you gently, his voice quieter. “Feels good, don’t it? Finally bein’ able to enjoy things.”

You could only hum in response. You let sleep take you, safe in the warmth of his arms.

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fxstpace · 1 month ago

Text

oh, snap!

summary: you and jake sim might have been best friends once upon a time, but not anymore. now, you barely talk to each other—so you decide to prove the universe wrong when you find out that he’s your soulmate, because there’s no way both of you are compatible.

⇢ pairing: jake sim x fem!reader ⇢ genres: fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers au, soulmate au, college au ⇢ word count: 7.0k ⇢ warnings: profanity, alcohol consumption, sexual jokes, soulmate lore i made up ⇢ a/n: this is a fic i had posted on my now deactivated blog, which i’ve made minor modifications to. thanks for reading!

The universe has to be fucking with you.

You aren’t one to believe in manifestation or the law of attraction or whatever other nonsense your TikTok feed provides you with. You think it’s a total waste of time, energy, and resources.

Right now, however, you’re manifesting with all your might—eyes screwed tightly shut, hands clasped in front of your chest, only one thought running through your head: Please don’t let it be Jake Sim, please don’t let it be Jake Sim, please don’t let it be—

You open one eye cautiously. You lift up the pinkie finger of your right hand equally carefully.

Fuck.

You drop your hands and let your head fall onto the desk in front of you. A dull thud echoes around you, and normally, you would be apologetic since you’re at the library, but because you’re wallowing in self-pity you can’t bring yourself to care. A frown mars your forehead. Maybe you’re manifesting wrong. Is that even a thing? Perhaps you should ask your friend Yizhou how to do it; she’s pretty popular on Instagram so surely she’d have some idea. Maybe one of her fellow influencer friends is a manifester. (Is that what they call it?)

You lift your head up and stare morosely at the red thread twined around your little finger. It winds down the floor, swirling and looping in gentle curves. You glare at the person it’s connected to.

Jake Sim, that little piece of shit.

The object of your disdain is seated one table away from yours. He’s hunched over his laptop, occasionally scribbling something into the messy notebook in front of him. His glasses keep slipping down the bridge of his nose, and every time he pushes them back up, you feel a tug on your finger.

This brings you to the following question: Does he not know you’re his soulmate?

You have three answers. One: He knows, but he doesn’t care. Two: He doesn’t know. Three: He doesn’t care.

The second option is rare but not unheard of. There have been several cases where people vehemently deny the existence of soulmates and refuse to believe in it. Such people never get to see the red thread that is wrapped around their finger, even though it exists. Truthfully, you feel bad for the people on the other side of the thread—the non-believer’s alleged soulmate. They will forever watch from afar, never going too close, but never straying away either. It sounds lonely, more than anything else.

You push that thought away. If Jake doesn’t know, it should be a good thing, right? You don’t need a soulmate to survive. You can just continue with your life as it is—attending classes, hanging out with your friends… Yeah, you’re happy with everything you have.

Another tug at your pinkie forces out an annoyed huff from your mouth. You glare at the perpetrator, still engrossed in his work. To be fair, you didn’t know Jake was your soulmate until very recently either. You knew the thread existed but didn’t know who it was connected to. When you were younger, you and your friends would have tons of fun pulling at the thread to annoy your unknown soulmate. Getting a pull back was a source of glee for seven-year-old you. Now, it just fills you with dread.

“Oi.” Someone’s breath tickles your ear.

“Fucking hell!”

You swat at your best friend’s face, successfully smacking his cheek. Taehyun grunts in pain. “Uncalled for.”

“What the fuck, Taehyun?” You grouse. “Don’t scare me like that. Sorry ‘bout your cheek.”

The boy rolls his eyes, sitting down on the chair next to you and dumping his tote bag on the table. “I’d feel better if you actually meant your apology. Also, why aren’t you studying? Our midterms start in a week and staring at Lover Boy isn’t gonna help you pass your classes.”

“Don’t call him that,” you snap. “And I was… studying.”

“Right. That’s exactly why none of your books are open.”

“Shut up, people are staring.”

Taehyun raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment. You’re not wrong—people are staring. Well, specifically, one person. You flex your little finger a little, straightening it out and then bending it again. If Jake feels any sort of yank, he doesn’t show it. Not that you’re interested, of course. You’re just… observing. So is he, clearly. He peers over his glasses at you both, his expression not betraying anything.

You flinch when Taehyun pinches your side. Turning back to him, you’re ready to yell at him for being an annoying asshole, when he fixes you with a pitying sort of look. You swallow.

“Hey,” he says softly, “don’t overthink, okay? He’s alone right now, you might as well talk to him about this.”

You blink uneasily, eyes flitting between your friend and the unopened book in front of you.

“How long are you gonna avoid him? You’ve been hiding this for months. And… he has a right to know,” Taehyun finishes, flicking a strand of hair out of his eyes.

You swallow again, around the lump in your throat that’s been sitting there for months. You found out that Jake was your soulmate months ago. Yet, you can’t seem to bring yourself to confront him or tell him about it. A far cry from the whole entire concept of soulmates—isn’t he supposed to be your missing puzzle piece? Certainly not, if you’re too nervous to even approach him. The universe must have made a mistake. Whatever higher being exists must have assigned you to the wrong person.

Taehyun is right, though. (You’re not going to admit it to him, of course; there’s no need to boost his already inflated ego.)

Jake Sim does have a right to know that he’s your soulmate.

You shift uncomfortably. Taehyun drops his gaze with a sigh. “I know you two have a history but can’t you just sort this out?”

“I… can’t,” you say lamely.

Your best friend looks sadly at you. You look away, fidgeting with the cover of your textbook. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a girl make her way to Jake’s table. He perks up immediately, greeting her with a soft smile. She sits down next to him and grabs Jake’s laptop, angling it towards her like it’s second nature. It probably is, you think bitterly.

Another reason why you can’t tell Jake Sim about this whole Situation: He has a girlfriend.

Park Chaerin meets your eyes and waves at you cheerfully. You wave back, feeling sick to your stomach.

You press the tip of your pen into your notebook, fighting the urge to close your eyes. Even the half-empty cup of coffee next to your laptop has done little to wake you up. Morning classes are the bane of your existence, and as a night owl, you vehemently dislike getting up early. Your professor rattles on about an assignment due in a week. You stifle another yawn behind your hand.

Feeling a yank on your little finger, you press the palm of your hand on the desk and ignore it. Jake Sim is sitting right next to you—courtesy of both of you having arrived five minutes late, and the only seats left were in the last row. Your Friday 8 AM lecture on the Quantum Theory of Electromagnetism is normally interesting, but Professor Jang makes even the most stimulating topics seem dry. You usually end up resorting to self-study sessions in order to understand everything.

Jake is scribbling something next to you. He’s probably doodling. He used to do that a lot when he was little, too. You recall pages upon pages of maths notes interspersed with tiny drawings of dinosaurs and dragons in the margins. They had made you laugh at the time.

“Hey,” he whispers.

You blink.

“Hi,” you say.

Jake grins at you—and you’re dazzled, for a moment. It’s been so long since you’ve had that smile of his being directed at you. You’ve seen him smile at other people on campus—his new friends, his girlfriend, acquaintances—all from afar, and you push down the bitter sting of rejection that pricks you every time. After so many months, it feels like you were in a pitch-black room all this time, and someone suddenly turned on the lights. It’s blinding.

Your former friend caps his pen and leans back in his chair. “Did you get enough sleep?”

“Um, yeah,” you answer. Just to be polite, you add, “...Did you?”

“Kind of.” Jake winces.

“Oh.”

“I was trying to understand the topic before this. Y’know—” he meets your eyes expectantly— “the whole Kronig-Penney model and the Bloch function and all that. I spent, like, two hours on them,” he says sheepishly.

“Oh, uh, yeah, those are kinda difficult,” you offer.

You’re still perplexed by this whole situation. Admittedly, after weeks of minimal contact with your childhood best friend, this isn’t how you imagined your reunion would go. All awkwardness aside, however, it feels… nice, talking to him again. It’s hard to move past the last few months, but there’s nothing wrong with this, right? You can think of it as two classmates bonding over a hard course they willingly chose. Two classmates who’ve known each other since they were toddlers just learning to walk, but you deliberately don’t think of that.

Jake hums. “The graphs get super confusing.”

“I guess,” you say.

He leans forward abruptly, elbows knocking on the edge of the desk. His stare on you is intent, focused. “Is your number still the same?”

You gape at him, mouth open like a blown-out fish. “Uh… yeah. Why?”

“So I can text you if I don’t understand anything,” Jake says simply, easily, still sporting that same easygoing smile of his. Your stomach twists into knots, and you force yourself to appear calm and not like your heart is about to leap out of your throat.

“I think you should’ve asked me first,” you manage to say.

He looks at you strangely, a dip in his eyebrows. “Why would I do that?”

Why, indeed.

Jake has known you for years; this is an undeniable fact. Even now, he probably knows you better than anyone else does—or ever could. So there’s absolutely no way he can’t make sense of the stifling awkwardness that surrounds you both.

However, the same holds true for you: You know Jake Sim just as well as he knows you. You know he’s trying to bridge a gap, make amends in a way only he does. You would be a fool if you didn’t take it in stride.

You crack a small smile. “Fair enough.”

He picks up his pen and twirls it between his fingers idly, before saying, “I’ll text you about other stuff, too.”

“Okay.”

“Great.”

Jake is all smiles and sunshine. He starts doodling again—what looks like a misshapen traffic cone of some sort. You look away, and tuck this little slice of goldenness into your rapidly rabbiting heart.

This is not good. You pay no heed to the thread around your little finger, and pick up your own pen. Angling your notebook away from your deskmate, you begin to write.

REASONS WHY JAKE SIM CANNOT BE MY SOULMATE FUCK THIS SHIT IM OUT

#1. he doesn’t know you as well as he should (okay, maybe he does)

You have no clue how you ended up studying with Jake Sim and Park Chaerin, of all people.

Your own friends, Kang Taehyun and Kim Gaeul are utterly nonplussed at this new situation. You give them a helpless shrug when they elbow each other and raise their eyebrows at you. The library is fairly empty at this hour, which makes it an ideal time to study without the distractions of other people. Of course, you didn’t consider the two people who’ve decided you’re a physics expert and require your guidance.

You humour them because you’re a nice person—not because you’re weak to Jake’s entreaties and his offer of buying you food for a whole week.

Chaerin smiles at your friends. “Hey, guys! Come join us.”

Taehyun is the first to blink out of his confusion. He moves forward, pulling out the chair opposite yours and settling down. “Thanks. We won’t bother you guys much.”

Gaeul nods her head. “Yeah, I have a bunch of assignments to finish.” She chuckles nervously, smoothing out her hair.

“No problem,” Jake supplies. “Your friend is super smart.”

Taehyun raises his eyebrows, pointing an incredulous finger at you. “You mean…?”

“Hey!” You swing your leg and kick Taehyun’s shin from under the table. He winces in pain. Gaeul giggles, and so does Chaerin. Jake lets out an amused snort.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” you say, “this bit isn’t that important from a test point of view, so just go over it to get the general idea.” You mark the paragraph you were referring to with a pencil.

Chaerin and Jake nod in tandem, like a pair of bobbleheads. You bite your lip to stifle your smile—they’re so perfect together, it’s ridiculous. You wouldn’t be surprised if Jake’s end of the string was connected to Chaerin’s instead. Is that even possible? You’ll have to google it up.

The thought puts a significant damper on your mood, and you turn away, drawing back from the pair sitting next to you.

Instead, you lock eyes with Taehyun, who’s glaring at you with enough intensity to drill a hole through your forehead. Talk to him, he mouths. You give him a small shake of your head.

You can’t talk to him about anything serious. Explaining physics to him and his girlfriend in the presence of your own best friends is a sort of safe zone; you don’t have to discuss anything personal whatsoever. All you have to do is prattle off a list of formulae and derivations and graphs, and hope that what you’re telling them to study is actually going to be asked on your midterm next week.

Taehyun rolls his eyes so hard, you wonder how they haven’t popped out of their sockets. He’s exasperated, you can tell—and Gaeul has probably been receiving the brunt of it all, because he would never outrightly say he’s upset with you. He would rant to Gaeul instead, trusting that she would tell you everything he told her but more nicely. That’s how your little trio circles back to each other.

You shift uncomfortably. Gaeul catches your eye and gives you a small, sympathetic smile. Your lips twitch upwards slightly.

“Wow,” Chaerin says, “I can’t believe we finished a whole unit in, like, one and a half hours.” She directs the next part to you. “You’re really smart. Don’t listen to Taehyun.”

“Y/N doesn’t listen to me anyway,” your friend grumbles. Gaeul hides her snort behind her styrofoam cup of coffee.

Speaking of which, you could really use some caffeine too. Anything to get away from Jake Sim and his quiet, knowing… aura, is the word you settle for. He wasn’t always this quiet—he used to be loud and raucous when it was just the two of you in high school—so while this new development isn’t surprising, it certainly is jarring.

“I’m going to get some coffee,” you announce to the table at large. “Anyone wanna come with?”

“I’ll come,” Jake says immediately. “I owe you for teaching us.”

“Oh, um.” You attempt to smile. “I—”

“Please go,” Taehyun says suddenly, his tone beseeching. “I need coffee too but I don’t trust Y/N to not put salt in mine or something.”

You gape at him, betrayal flooding your features. Gaeul snorts again. Chaerin just looks at you and Jake alternately. Jake’s lips twitch upwards. “Y/N still does that?”

You whirl around to face him. “What?”

“Oh, this is getting interesting,” Gaeul pipes up. “Do elaborate.”

“I second that,” Chaerin adds.

You feel your cheeks and the back of your neck heat up. You want to implore your former best friend to keep his pretty mouth shut, but your ego doesn’t let you grovel in front of three other people. Jake raises his eyebrows, lips parting to form a small ‘o’. He smiles, a little bit sheepish. Before he can say anything, you intervene.

“That was one time, Taehyun!” you snap. “And it was by accident. Why would I willingly put salt in your coffee?”

Taehyun raises an eyebrow at you, but inside, you know he’s laughing uncontrollably at your predicament. “Who knows? You might wanna poison me for being cooler than you.”

“What is this, high school? And why the fuck would I want a murder on my hands? I’m too young to go to jail.”

Chaerin tries to muffle her giggles with her hand. Both you and Taehyun turn simultaneously to look at her. “Sorry.” She giggles again. “You two talk like an old married couple.”

“Gross,” you say, at the same time Taehyun draws out an, “Ew,” and extends the last syllable like a child in kindergarten.

“Oh my God,” Gaeul says. “Chaerin, you’re a genius. I see it too.”

“Not you too,” Taehyun groans.

The two begin bickering again, and Chaerin joins them with enthusiasm, adding her own little tidbits of support for Gaeul in between the conversation. During all this, Jake remains remarkably quiet, an amused smile tugging on his lips.

You turn to him, a rush of sudden embarrassment making your cheeks heat up. It occurs to you that he’s never seen you like this—laughing and joking around with your friends. Friends that don’t include him. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Let’s go get coffee.”

“Okay.”

You and Jake push your chairs back under the table and exit the library. The coffee shop is two storeys down, so you make a beeline for the staircase. Your former best friend follows you, his undone shoelaces slapping on the tiles. He still doesn’t tie his shoelaces properly, then. Perhaps he hasn’t changed as much as you thought.

“Hey, by the way,” he says, “I was gonna tell Taehyun about the time I put salt in your coffee.”

“...I know.” Your answer is short, clipped. You force your shoulders to relax—there’s no need to tense up when Jake Sim is around.

“Oh. Uh, okay then.”

You don’t look at him, but you’re fairly certain he’s doing that thing he always does when he’s feeling awkward: A little rub of his thumb against the corner of his mouth. It’s a tic he’s always had, from the time you were in elementary school, and it isn’t any different now.

A stifling silence falls upon you both. You almost wish Taehyun and Gaeul were here, bringing Chaerin with them in tow. The three of them seemed to get along well; the chances of the five of you hanging out outside of college are high, now.

Of course, that also means you and Jake will have to pretend like everything’s alright between you both, and that your decades-long friendship wasn’t shattered by one single argument.

You round the corner to the staircase and begin the descent downwards. Jake holds onto the railing on the other side. Despite everything, you think Jake is the braver one between you two.

He breaks the silence as easily as he broke your heart, and asks:

“Do you still take your macchiato with two packets of sugar?”

“Yeah,” you say softly.

#2. he wants to be friends again (why?)

You blame Kang Taehyun for this.

Of course he had to forget to pick up the pizza from the local restaurant before coming back to his place. Of course he didn’t check the weather forecast beforehand, and even if he did, of course he didn’t tell you it was going to rain. Of fucking course he asks you to pick up the food for him because your classes only ended at 4 and the get-together to celebrate the end of midterms was at 4:30.

If you had the power, you would curse your best friend to oblivion. You grip your phone in your hand, gritting your teeth and staring down at the screen.

Group Chat: the holy trinity of dumbasses 🤡 [16:12] You: it’s fukcing pouring here and i didnt bring my car [16:12] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): *Fucking [16:13] You: yeah it’s something you’ve never done before [16:13] You: i have the pizza [16:13] You: come and pick me up or im throwing it in the dustbin. [16:14] gaeul 🤍: u shouldn’t waste food y/n >:( [16:14] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): You’re making Gaeul cry >:( [16:14] gaeul 🤍: girl what [16:15] You: aw cute [16:15] You: seriously tho [16:16] You: come pick me up [16:17] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): OK, I’m on my way [16:17] You: FUCKING FINALLY

The plastic bag with all the pizza boxes dangles off your wrist, cutting into your skin. The steps that lead to the inside of the restaurant are slick with rainwater. You open Instagram and scroll through your feed mindlessly, clicking on your classmates’ stories.

You shiver. Rainy weather always makes the temperature drop by several degrees, and your flimsy jacket isn’t enough to drive away the chill. Forget Taehyun, maybe you should’ve checked the forecast instead. Sometimes (read: most of the time) you can be just as stupid as him. You wonder how Gaeul puts up with the single brain cell you and Taehyun toss between each other like a hot potato.

Honestly, you just want to go somewhere where it’s dry and warm.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, and it takes you a whole minute to comprehend the name that shows up on the caller ID.

Jake Sim.

Why is Jake Sim calling you?

You chew on your lip nervously before swiping your thumb up and accepting his call. Bringing your phone to your ear, you let the plastic bag sway gently. The line is silent for a few seconds, as though neither of you can comprehend the fact that you’re on a call with each other. It makes sense; this is the first time in months he’s calling you.

Finally, Jake’s voice crackles over the speaker. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I’m outside. Can you see me?”

“I, uh.” You look around quickly. The parking lot in front of you is mostly empty, a good chunk of people having escaped the rain. It’s not hard to make out the solitary figure standing outside a beaten-down Toyota, holding an umbrella aloft. “Yeah, I see you.”

“Oh, good,” he says. “Do you have an umbrella?”

“Nope. Just… pizza.”

Jake makes a noise that sounds like a warbled chuckle. “Okay, I’m coming over there.”

“...Okay.”

For some strange reason, you don’t feel like ending the call. You fumble for something to say, because it’s weird just being on a call with someone you can literally see. The tug on your little finger as he comes closer to you makes a lump form in your throat. You take a deep breath and push it down into your stomach.

“You haven’t changed your car,” you say lightly.

Jake hums, the sound so familiar it doesn’t even surprise you until you register it. “Can’t afford a new one. Plus, it works decently.”

He strides over to you, and it’s unnecessarily sexy—the way he holds the black umbrella up with one hand and his phone to his ear with the other. You can see the speckles of rain on his grey hoodie where the raindrops bounce off the ends of the umbrella. His hair is swept to the side, lips pink with chapstick. Another yank on your pinkie finger; you clench your fist.

“Please,” you snort. “The last time I was in it, it took twenty minutes to start the engine. That was a year ago, Jake.”

He’s closer now, nearing the steps. His eyes don’t leave yours. They trace over all your features, as though he’s committing you to memory—you, with your tangled hair and tired eye bags, chapped lips and dirty sneakers. You swallow.

He puts his phone down and speaks to you directly. “I think that was the driver’s fault. But don’t worry, I can drive better now.”

You let your hand drop limply to your side.

“Hi,” Jake says.

“Hi again,” you manage to say.

“Here, let me take that.” He reaches out for the pizza bag, but you don’t give it to him.

“It’s fine. Just… hold up the umbrella and don’t get us wet.”

Jake laughs, a short, bright sound. “I won’t.”

You step towards him, quickly slipping underneath the shelter of the umbrella above your head. It’s a tight fit—one of your shoulders pokes out, as does one of his. You grimace when your sleeve gets splattered with rain.

Jake leads the way to his ancient car, scratched and scuffed with years of use. It was his dad’s old one, a gift for him on his seventeenth birthday, one that his mom had told you about to surprise him with. It seems like a bygone history now.

“I thought Taehyun was gonna come,” you comment.

Jake looks at you strangely. “I thought you asked for me to come pick you up.”

“I… did?” You gasp at the realisation. Kang Taehyun, that fucker. “I’m sorry,” you say awkwardly. “Taehyun probably told you that I was stuck in the rain.”

“He did,” Jake confirms. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. It’s not a problem at all.”

“Oh… okay, then.” Still, you feel guilty. Jake came all the way in the rain just because your best friend couldn’t stop being a meddling little nincompoop.

“Why wouldn’t I come?” Jake continues. His voice sounds deliberately casual. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“...Yeah. I guess.”

Jake stops near his car, fishing around in his pocket for the keys. “Look, I—I know things haven’t been the same lately, but I—” he licks his lips, another nervous tic of his— “I want you to know that I never stopped thinking of you as my best friend. Okay?”

You blink, sucking in a breath sharply. “I, um, yeah. Yeah, okay,” you say lamely.

Jake nods once, not meeting your eyes. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’ve found friends like Gaeul and Taehyun. They’re good people.”

“So is Chaerin,” you say. “And so is Sunghoon.”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling faintly, unlocking the door. “And so are you.”

Sometimes, you wonder if Jake also feels a pull on his little finger. If he does, does he ever wonder where it’s from? Or does he not feel it at all? You bend your finger and shuffle into the passenger side of his car. He closes the door for you before crossing over to the other side and climbing into the driver’s seat.

Whatever the case is, one thing is for sure: Jake Sim is your soulmate, and even if he wasn’t, you’d still be in love with him.

Just like you were one year ago.

#3. his parents adore you (and so do you, but there’s always the yearning and the aching)

“Hey, mom and dad are asking when you’re gonna visit again.”

Jake swings into your periphery, putting his phone back in his pocket. His mom had called about fifteen minutes ago to make plans for Jake to go home over the weekend. Potentially, you could also go—your childhood home is right next to his. It’s been a while since you last visited; your little sister sends you texts about how much she misses you.

He sits down on the chair next to yours, looking at you expectantly. You’re at your favourite spot in the library, one that’s been designated as you and your friends’ table. Jake and Chaerin have been officially integrated into your tiny trio; Gaeul and Chaerin get along really well, and Taehyun and Jake follow the same sports teams. Occasionally, their other friend, Park Sunghoon, joins you but he’s very quiet and mostly keeps to himself.

You don’t look up from your laptop screen when you answer, “I’m not sure.”

“Huh. Mom says you’ve said that to your mom every time she asks.”

Things between you and Jake have reached a semblance of normalcy, too. It’s not the same as it used to be—it can never be the same as it used to be—but at least the pang you feel in your chest whenever he talks to you has dulled somewhat.

“I’ve been busy,” you say vaguely.

“Oh, c’mon,” Jake retorts. “Our midterms were over a week ago. What’re you waiting for?”

You don’t reply. He waits for a moment before saying, “I could drive you.”

That gets your full attention. Your gaze snaps to him, mouth pressed together.

“I mean, we literally live right next to each other, Y/N,” he continues. “It’ll save gas. And the environment.”

You snort. “Your car is more of a hazard to the environment than us not carpooling is.”

“You don’t know how to drive,” he deadpans.

“That’s not true! I can drive, I just choose not to. Saving the environment and all.” You point an accusing finger at him. “If you really care about the environment, you should take the bus home with me.”

Jake shrugs loosely. “I don’t care how we go home, as long as you come with me. I’m sure your sister misses you too.”

There it is again: That easy, light way he says things. Nonchalant and unaffected—though it affects you more than it should.

“You’ll pay for the tickets?”

Jake’s grin is golden. “If that’s what it takes.”

That’s how you find yourself crammed in between Jake Sim and an old auntie with a flower-patterned bandana, on the bus back to your hometown three days later. The auntie gives you and Jake a few cookies she’d packed for her grandchildren, and then promptly falls asleep on your shoulder (Jake couldn’t stop laughing for ten minutes when he saw the line of drool she’d left on your shirt sleeve). He offers you his own shoulder in case you want to sleep too; your cheeks heat up at the thought. It’s a bumpy ride, but after stopping at the bus stop nearest to your house, Flower Auntie sends you off with a few more cookies and a box of homemade kimchi, and you and Jake begin walking back to your neighbourhood.

Some things have changed—the playground is being renovated, your old elementary school is being repainted, the Kims who owned the local ramen shop retired and set the place up for rent. But at its heart, it’s all the same, you think. Kids still run around holding warm bungeoppang from street stalls and cartons of strawberry milk from the convenience store. Their mothers sit around and gossip about celebrities and complain about their husbands. People working corporate jobs curse under their breaths about their bosses and their unforgiving schedules. It’s late in the evening when you arrive, a bag containing all of Flower Auntie’s goodies hanging off Jake’s arm. All the local eateries are opening up for the dinner rush, drawing people in with the offer of free beer and soju for every meal purchased.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Jake says, a fond smile on his lips.

“Yeah,” you agree softly.

Despite everything, it’s still home.

The two of you cross the streets to your houses, sneakers slapping against the pavement. Several neighbours who’ve seen you both grow up call out and wave hello. You’re stopped by Mrs. Lee’s son, Heeseung, who makes you both promise to go out for dinner with him tomorrow.

Finally, you stand in front of your childhood home. The rusted door and peeling-off paint greets you like a best friend. You shoulder your backpack and ring the doorbell, saying goodbye to Jake as he walks into his own house.

The door swings open—only to reveal Mrs. Sim standing at your doorway. Before you can voice your confusion, she pulls you into a tight hug, mumbling your name into your hair.

“Welcome home,” she says, moving aside and letting you in. “Your mother is in the kitchen. She’s just started making dinner.”

“Oh, okay.” You grin. “It’s great to see you, Mrs. Sim.”

“I swear you love Y/N more than me.”

You turn around and see Jake standing by the door, an affectionate look in his eyes. You direct your grin at him, too.

“Suck it up, loser.”

Jake’s guffaw rings in your ears even when your sister screams with unabashed joy as soon as she sees you.

#4. he broke your heart once (he could do it again)

You stare at the red thread wrapped around your finger. It’s dulled a bit now, compared to how it was a few years ago. Some of its shine is lost; it looks more opaque now. You crook your finger experimentally, knowing it's futile but still holding on to some hope that maybe Jake will feel it too.

To live for the hope of it all, as a wise song-writer once penned.

You startle when Jake sets a mug of coffee in front of you. His house is empty—your mother and Mrs. Sim went to buy groceries together and his father is out of the city on a business trip. Your sister is hanging out with her friends but told you to call her if you needed anything.

“Here you go,” Jake says, sitting down on the chair next to you. “Have some and then we can go buy some hangover soup.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, curling your fingers around the mug and savouring its warmth. The liquid inside is not too bitter, but not too sweet either—just how you like it.

“Feeling any better?”

You wince. Going out for dinner with Heeseung meant drinks were also attached. Being back in your hometown after weeks meant you had to check out all your favourite restaurants again and visit the ones that popped up after you left for college. The result: You swallowed down entirely too much soju, Heeseung and Jake had to physically carry you home, your head is killing you right now, and your embarrassment is at its peak.

When you woke up in the early afternoon to texts from your family members detailing their various absences, you reluctantly made your way out of your bedroom and to the Sims’ place.

Which brings you here, perched on a chair at the Sims’ dining table, fiddling with your red string of fate, while the object of your thoughts sits right next to you.

“Yeah, a little,” you murmur in response to his question.

“Good.” Jake stretches his arms above his head, exposing a sliver of his midriff. You swallow. “Your alcohol tolerance is still the same.”

“Yours isn’t any better,” you counter. “You didn’t drink more than one bottle of soju.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You were counting?”

You huff, ignoring the warmth that spreads to your cheeks. “That’s not the point.”

“I’m just joking,” he says, bringing his hands back down. “I was kinda surprised Heeseung has a girlfriend now.”

You hum, taking another sip of your drink. Your head still pounds, but the caffeine is kicking in and making you more lively. It is strange, though, seeing your childhood friend settle down. Judging by the way he talks about her, he’s completely smitten. She’s my soulmate, he had said, and I don’t even believe in my thread.

The memory makes hurt bubble up inside your throat, so you chug the remaining liquid in the mug.

“It’s nice, though,” Jake continues, something… wistful crossing his face. “I wish I had someone like that.”

You look away, staring down at the ring of coffee left on the wooden table from your mug. “Yeah, I guess… Aren’t you dating Chaerin, though?”

You bite the bullet—what’s the point, anyway? There’s no use in dragging it out. Not when he clearly doesn’t know that his soulmate is sitting right next to him. You can deal with the hurt that comes with rejection later.

Jake stills. You glance at him—he tilts his head confusedly. “Chaerin? No… What makes you think that?”

“Everyone said you guys were dating,” you say with a small, uncertain shrug.

“I mean…” He blinks. “We hooked up once, but that’s really it.”

It’s your turn to blink now, bemused. “Huh?”

“Yeah, we were drunk and it just sorta happened? I dunno,” he says sheepishly. “We didn’t remember any of it later, so we just agreed to remain friends. Plus, her soulmate is Sunghoon.”

“Wait, what?” Your teeth worry your bottom lip. Your mind is swirling with questions—was it possible that you had misread Jake Sim all this time?

“Yeah,” he says softly. “It’s no big deal.”

“...Oh. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed things,” you apologise quietly. Despite all this, his words make a swell of optimism rise in your chest.

He shrugs. “I, uh, wouldn’t blame you. We didn’t talk much after… after everything.”

“Yeah.” Your admission is soft, regret burning a hole in your tongue.

“So, um…” Jake trails off, looking unsure of himself. That’s a first, you realise with a start. He’s usually so calm and collected, even in the worst times. “Do you still feel the same as you did a year ago?”

You suck in a breath. “Why—why would you ask me something like that?”

“I—just curious.”

His eyes land on yours, beseeching and glorious. Even when he’s just woken up, he looks like he’s been dipped in the sun’s golden rays. Your heart hammers inside your chest.

“Wait, can I ask you something else? Why… did you reject me that night?”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you’re transported back to that fateful evening in July.

You stuttered the words out, and explained that you were in love with him, that you were pretty sure he was your soulmate, regardless of who your string was actually connected to. With every new sentence you tacked on, the emotion on Jake’s face vanished. Towards the end, you felt your face crumble.

He left you alone on the pavement, broken-hearted and lovesick.

Jake clears his throat awkwardly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come off so harsh on you that day.”

“I don’t care about that, Jake,” you say simply. “I just want to know why.”

“Because I was stupid. I didn’t believe in the soulmate bullshit, but I know you do. You’ve always been a hopeless romantic. I—” He licks his lips before continuing— “The truth is, Y/N, I really, really like you… But I didn’t want to hold you back from finding your true soulmate—whoever was on the other side of your string—’cause I know they’re gonna be the one for you.”

If you weren’t sitting already, you’re sure Jake’s confession would have swept you off your feet and you would be a bumbling mess on his dining room floor. Seeing the forlorn look on his face, you nearly crumble. How stupid your soulmate is. How kind and caring and selfless.

“So I rejected you. I thought I wouldn’t be able to make you happy.” He pauses for a moment, his voice dropping. “It’s still the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”

You finally find your voice. “Jake…”

He laughs somberly. “You probably think I’m an asshole.”

“I could never think that,” you say firmly. Your hand finds his on the tabletop, and he laces your fingers together, staring at your connected palms with awe.

“I do think you’re a little bit dumb, because I’ve liked you too since, like, forever—”

“Define forever,” he interrupts, not unkindly.

“Well—maybe since the time you surprised me with all the physical copies of that book series I wanted for my fifteenth birthday?”

“Then,” he says, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, “I’ve loved you since before forever.”

A surprised laugh bursts out of your mouth. You feel a tug on your little finger as Jake moves his hand away from yours and cups your cheek with it instead. “I’ve also wanted to kiss you since before forever.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, drawing closer to you.

You lean forward and capture his lips with yours, running your tongue along his bottom lip. He parts his mouth with a sigh, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. His other free hand comes to rest on the nape of your neck; you wind your arms around his neck. The position is a bit cumbersome—the edge of the chair digs into your thigh, and he nearly knocks his elbow on the back of his chair—but his touch is searing hot, the welcome kind, the kind that makes you crave more and more and more.

“You promise you won’t do it again?” you ask later, out of breath and flushed.

“I promise,” he says, and he links his pinkie finger with yours to seal the deal.

The thread tied around it glows golden.

#5. he doesn’t even believe in soulmates (but he’ll try)

“You can’t see it?”

“I’ve told you a million times already,” Jake says patiently, “but I can’t.”

“How?” You look at him dubiously. “It’s literally a glowing golden thread connecting you and me.”

“I don’t need a thread to connect us,” your boyfriend quips. “I can think of better uses for a rope.”

You make a sound of disgust. “We’re at the library.”

Jake Sim grins at you, all bright and shining and vivid. “So?”

Taehyun lets out a pointed cough, typing on his laptop. “There are other people here,” he says, motioning to Gaeul, Chaerin and Sunghoon. All three of them are very obviously avoiding your gaze. Even the tips of Taehyun’s ears are pink. You stifle a giggle.

“Sorry,” Jake says, not sounding sorry at all. He picks up your hand again, thumb brushing against the knuckle of your little finger, right above the knot where the golden string is tied. He whispers to you, next, “I just don’t believe in it.”

“I know,” you say. “But you’re missing out on a lot.”

Jake hums. “I don’t believe in soulmates. But I believe in you.”

You roll your eyes, ready to chew him out for being a sappy romantic again, when his next words make your heart stutter.

“I think that’s good enough for me.”

1K notes · View notes

alg3a · 11 days ago

Text

auspicious (pt. 1)

jayce x f!reader x viktor / jayvik x f!reader

4k words

description: Viktor and Jayce’s new lab assistant is the hottest topic at a council gala. After defending herself all night, an accidental confession leads to tension in the workplace.

warnings: suggestive content, brief and light misogyny (don’t worry), manipulative reader, lab assistant dynamic, basically the last third is foreplay.

a/n: This is my first ever tumblr fic! If you guys would like, i will add an nsfw second part.

Update: second part added!

Say what you will about Councilor Salo, but his galas never disappointed. There must have been three hundred of the city’s most influential people scattered about the grand ballroom, which stretched further than you could see with your naked eye. It was the first you’d ever seen of these exquisite parties, and you silently hoped that it wouldn’t be the last.

You’d been the lab assistant of the two Hextech partners for around three months now. With the public eye being enthralled with the activities of the two intelligent scientists, it wasn’t long before the spectacle included you, their pretty new lab assistant. You were in your final year in the academy’s undergraduate program and had been a promising enough engineering student to be hired by Viktor and Jayce. Your name was a prevalent one in every inventor’s competition and innovator’s fair, so naturally they had heard of you before your interview. From what you heard, there were nearly fifty other applicants (mostly girls) and yet they hired you on the spot. Naturally, once this story aired, the press was obsessed with you. Piltover Gazette did an entire piece on you about a month into your employment.

With all the attention, Jayce thought it might be a good idea for you to tag along at galas and parties as the plus-one of both men. They never brought dates, so the position was always wide open. Although, Jayce did usually leave with a plus-one.

You wore a deep red sleek gown with a plunging neckline and an absent back. The men matched their ties to your dress, but the rest of their outfits were mostly black and ivory. It wasn’t long before you were whisked away to the dancefloor by influential older men, who talked your ear off about how lucky you must find yourself to be shadowing two promising young inventors. You cringed each time you heard it. You were certainly lucky to have landed the position, but the way they phrased it made it seem like you were some teenage girl who was asked to the school dance by the two cutest boys in school. It wasn’t as trivial as that. Each day, you worked tirelessly alongside their genius minds to find solutions to real world problems using Hextech. You and Viktor spent countless nights asleep on opposite ends of the worn lab couch so that you could continue working at any hour.

Eventually, you grew tired of the misogyny from older male benefactors. You’d done enough socializing for the night, now it was time to patronize the open bar.

You found a spot between a woman in a gold dress and a man in a white tuxedo and asked the bartender politely for a whiskey sour. Once you finished speaking, the man in the white tuxedo turned to you.

“I recognize you,” he said, the scent of his aftershave mixing with the alcohol on his breath. “You’re the Hextech girl, aren’t you? I read your article in the Gazette.”

You sighed as the bartender handed you your drink, pressing a polite smile to your lips with the exhale. “Yes, that’s me. It’s a pleasure.” You hold out your hand and he brings it to his lips with a kiss longer than you would have liked.

“The pleasure is all mine, dear,” he said, setting his glass down. “You know, it’s very uncommon for an undergraduate girl to land such an auspicious spot amongst lead researchers at the academy.”

Here we go again. In the time it takes for him to finish the same spiel you’d heard all night, you finish your drink in one continuous sip. You punctuate the end of his sentence by putting your glass down roughly on the counter.

“Yes, I’m incredibly lucky,” you say, your polite smile turning vaguely murderous. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jayce and Viktor approaching the bar.

“Enough prattle from me,” the man says and holds out his pasty hand once more. “I think it’s time for a dance.”

“Are we interrupting?” Jayce asks, his usual charming smile adorning his chiseled face.

“Not at all!” The man in white says, jovially. No doubt feeling blessed to speak to the men whose egos he spent the last five minutes stroking.

“In fact you came at the perfect time,” you say, smushing yourself between Jayce and Viktor, and wrapping your arms around their arms, emboldened by the alcohol and desperate for a way out of this conversation. “We were just discussing how positively fortunate I am to be working for two accomplished, ambitious, handsome young inventors.”

Viktor furrows his eyebrows at you, then looks back up at Jayce. “Is that so?” He asks, suspicion dancing in his eyes.

“Yes,” you nod emphatically, then bring your attention back to the man in white. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry I’ll have to decline your offer to dance. But I’m sure you understand. When a young woman like myself is called upon by men so far above my humble station, I simply must recognize how—what was the word you used earlier—how auspicious my position is.”

The man seems lost in your rambling, but you notice Jayce and Viktor smiling at one another and avoiding the man’s gaze.

“Ehem, well alright,” the man says, finally. “You three have a pleasant night.”

“Thank you,” Jayce says, his smile becoming a smirk. “We will.”

Jayce places his hand on your lower back and guides you away as Viktor follows, now placing his weight on his cane.

“Are we missing something?” Viktor asks.

“We came to check up on you,” Jayce said. “That guy at the bar was eyeing you like you were his next cocktail.”

“Gross,” you shudder at the thought. Jayce’s hand rubs the exposed skin of your lower back gently. Your eyes dart toward the ground at the sudden awareness of the intimacy of the touch. You shrug off the chill heading up your spine. “Please, never invite me to one of these again. I’ve heard enough old men insinuating that I’m the lab’s little piece of ass.”

“They’re saying that?” Viktor said sharply, stopping in his path as he turned to face you, his hand on your shoulder.

“Well, not exactly that, but practically every conversation is monopolized by my male counterpart lecturing me on what a privilege it is to spend my days ogling at you two.”

Jayce snickers a bit, but Viktor shoots him a stern look.

“That’s highly inappropriate. I’m terribly sorry you experienced such a blatant display of the antiquated beliefs these upper houses hold.” Viktor shakes his head as if he is shaking off the experience like a dog drying off.

“Vik and I were just talking about leaving, anyway,” Jayce says, his hand resuming its ministrations on your back. “We can call a car and go, just say the word.”

You look around the room and remember the reason you’re here in the first place. Galas are the primary way for the two inventors at either side of you to network and receive funding for their projects. Jayce abhorred the politics and the whole reason exhausted, introverted Viktor even bears the social tedium of these parties when he’d rather be slaving away in the lab is because he knows none of their ventures can be broadened without doing the dance. In a singular moment you realize that if they can stomach the routine dreariness of the social game that these parties provide, so can you. You are their prized assistant after all.

“It's okay,” you shake your head. “It’s really not that bad.”

“Are you sure?” Viktor asks, his head tilting.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you nod. “I just have to get used to the manner at which these sorts of events go on. But I can do it. If you’ll recall, adaptability was a strength on my resume.”

This earns a laugh from both of the men. Jayce removes his hand from your lower back to rub your shoulder softly. “I think we glossed over that part.”

Viktor stops laughing suddenly, which elicits a raised eyebrow from you.

“What?” You ask, your eyes darting between Viktor and Jayce. Jayce’s lips press together in a tight seal as if he caught himself letting something slip. “What do you mean?”

Just in time to save them from the obviously impending awkward situation, a man in an all black suit approaches.

“Gentlemen, if I may borrow your lovely assistant for a dance–”

You felt your cheeks growing hot with every word he spoke. You were so incredibly tired of old men here thinking they could just ask politely and receive your body to use in whatever stupid waltz they wanted to try their hand at. “Gods, I don’t–”

“My apologies,” Jayce said, interrupting what he was sure would be an outburst on your part. “I’m afraid our lovely assistant is spoken for, for the rest of the night.”

Viktor punctuated his sentence with a nod and a gentle squeeze of your upper arm.

“I see,” the man said, his face betraying his civility. “Well, find me if that changes.”

As soon as the man was out of earshot, Viktor released your arm. “Call that car, Jayce.”

“On it,” he said, already beginning to make his way to the front of the ballroom.

“I’ve been where you are,” Viktor said, his nimble fingers trailing downward from where he had been squeezing your arm. He lifts your hand and places it on his wrist so that you cling to him as the two of you walk toward the exit together. “When I was Heimerdinger’s assistant, I was often undermined. Although, I had the distinct privilege of not being a beautiful young woman. While I can relate to your frustration, the misogyny and objectification you’re experiencing aren’t exactly things Jayce and I have experienced. But we’re going to do our best to quell it for you.”

You look up at him and find his hardened expression fixed on the door. “Thank you.” Those two words will suffice for now, but Viktor’s promise warms your heart in ways that a simple thank you cannot express.

Jayce finds the two of you as you exit into the grand hallway. “Car’s waiting outside.” He takes his coat off and drapes it over your shoulders, not paying much attention to your hand on Viktor’s arm.

The three of you pile in the back of the limousine. You sit sandwiched between the two men, relishing in the warmth radiating from their bodies after the few steps outside in the cold night. Viktor stretches his leg outward in the spacious backseat while Jayce leans back and groans. Clearly you aren’t the only one exhausted from the antics of the night.

“Where will I be taking you three?” The driver asks, his eyes visible in the rearview mirror.

“Two stops, if possible,” Jayce speaks up, leaning forward once more to be heard better. “The laboratory block of the academy and the East Dormitories.”

“You guys are going to the lab? It’s almost midnight.” You ask, turning to Jayce before realizing how the proximity of the backseat brings your face so close to his.

“Always work to be done,” Jayce says, glancing over your face before giving you a little more space. “But don’t worry, you’ve had a long night. You don’t need to do any assisting again until tomorrow morning.”

You look over at Viktor momentarily, to see him staring out the window as the car begins to move.

“If it’s alright, I think I’d like to go to the lab, too,” you say, softly. You can’t help but feel as though you’re inviting yourself to some clandestine meeting, as if you don’t have as much of a reason to be at the lab a s they do.

Jayce looks over at Viktor, not for confirmation but for something else. Humor, maybe?

“Of course,” Jayce smiles softly. He shifts his attention to the driver again. “On second thought, just take us to the labs, please.”

The driver nods as he picks up speed and peels out of the driveway. For some reason, your heart pounds. It isn’t abnormal for you and the two men to stay ridiculously late at the lab. In fact, it’s more common than leaving before midnight.

You become suddenly aware of the long slit that opens your deep red dress, and you cross your legs.

“Jayce I wanted to ask you something,” you say, mustering up the courage to recall the slip-up from earlier. “What did you mean when you said you glossed over my resume?”

“Well…” Jayce looks over at Viktor, which makes you do the same. Now he’s definitely paying attention, his eyebrows two firm lines scrunched above his angular nose.

Viktor finally decides to chime in, and you know exactly why: Jayce isn’t a good liar.

“We had lots of applications,” Viktor said. “You know that.”

“Yeah, but…then why did you hire me?”

“You had a very promising interview,” Viktor says, now avoiding eye contact.

“You’re lying to me,” you say, more accusatory than you meant it to be.

“We should just tell her, Vik,” Jayce mutters, almost under his breath. In response, Viktor’s hard expression softens. Perhaps out of relief?

“Tell me what?”

“Fine,” Viktor says, finally, with an exhausted sigh. “I’m too tired to persuade you against it.”

Jayce puts a hand so low on your thigh that it’s almost on your knee. “First, it’s important that you know that we would have hired you regardless. You’re so incredibly talented and you’ve been such a good assistant; we have no doubt in our minds that you’re the perfect person for this job.”

“Regardless of what, Jayce?”

“A little help, Vik?” Jayce asks after a sigh of helpless frustration.

“We sent everyone else home after your interview,” Viktor said, still looking out of the window, his arm resting on the ledge of the door, fidgeting with the handle. “When we saw you for the first time, we decided we wanted to see you more often.”

“What?” You feel your face growing hot. Anger? Something else entirely?

“The first note I wrote during your interview just said ‘beautiful,’ and I don’t think I wrote anything down after that,” Jayce admitted.

“You can’t be serious,” you say at a volume so low it might be a whisper. Anger. Definitely anger. “All night…all night I was swatting away guys who were objectifying me…accusing me of just being your pretty little assistant. I thought it was just misogyny. I thought they just couldn’t believe a girl was capable of keeping up with you two…but apparently they were right.”

“That’s not the case, at all,” Viktor said, louder than I’d ever heard him. “It couldn’t be further from the truth. We weren’t objectifying you. You deserve respect for your accomplishments, and those accomplishments are numerous.”

“He’s right, it’s not like we just hired you to look at,” Jayce said, trying to reconcile the situation. “And it’s not like I didn’t write notes during your interview because there wasn’t anything to write. I stopped writing because I was captivated by you.”

Suddenly the weight of the situation falls onto you, all at once. These men, your bosses, your best friends, the two smartest, most accomplished scientists in Piltover…they were attracted to you.

“For three months?” You ask, softly, more to yourself than to them.

“Yes,” Viktor answered. “We understand if you’re upset with us.”

The car slowed to a stop against the curb of the laboratory building of the academy.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to go into the lab anymore,” Jayce said, beginning to lean forward and opening his mouth to address the driver. “Hey, sorry, could you–”

“No,” you say, your words final. “I’m going into the lab with you.”

Your lips are a deep red firm line. Your eyes are unreadable, and neither of the boys can tell what you’re thinking. Even you hardly know, but one thing is certain: you find yourself in an auspicious position. You didn’t need the two boys to validate you for everything listed on your resume. They knew you were intelligent, and more importantly, you knew. What you didn’t know is that they found you beautiful. So much so that they hired you just to see you more often.

You’d spent the whole night trying to defend your own honor, being shaken by men with accusatory, wandering hands. More than that, you’d spent the night wandering awkwardly for the benefit of your bosses. Now, it was time to return the favor.

“If you’re sure,” Jayce said, pushing open the car door and stepping out onto the curb, holding it open for you as Viktor exited through the other door. As you brushed past Jayce, you let his coat fall delicately down your shoulders, revealing the deep backline of the dress.

You turn over your right shoulder, just enough for your face to be past profile, and narrow your eyes at him. “I’m sure.”

Once Viktor is out of the car, the three of you walk toward the large glass doors that lead to the lobby of the laboratory building. You stop in front of the keycard sensor and watch as Viktor pats down his pant pockets in search of his key card.

“Sorry, one second,” he says.

You approach him, with no sound but the clicking of your heels on the cold pavement below, and slide your hand into his coat pocket. You watch his jaw clench, never taking your eyes off his face as you pinch the plastic card between your pointer and middle finger. You pull it out like a cigarette before waving it in front the boys’ faces and tapping it against the small metal sensor. It beeps with a green flash and you hand the card back to Viktor. Neither of them says a word.

You enter through the glass doors, but at the lack of footsteps behind you, you turn around. The men still stand, staring at you, mouths slightly agape.

“What?” You ask. “Aren’t you coming?”

Jayce coughs, as if fighting something in his throat, then takes a few steps forward and follows you.

You press the call button on the elevator and wait as the boys stand on either side of you.

“If you’re upset with us, please say so,” Viktor said, his voice bordering pleading.

“Upset?” You tilt your head to look up at the man beside you. Even in heels they were both taller than you. “Do I look upset?”

“I–uh well, I am not sure. You look…focused.”

You were definitely focused. Yes, you were playing with them. Wasn’t it only fair that you return a bit of the awkwardness provided by their sudden confession in the car? This was you getting even for that embarrassment, and you’d soon be getting even for the long-kept secret, as well.

“Strange,” you say as the elevator door opens before you. You step in and turn to face the door. “Jayce, press four.”

He does as you say.

“And how do you think I look, Jayce?” You ask, your eyes shifting toward him in the confined space of the elevator. He repeats that same little choked cough from before, except now it sounds closer to him clearing his throat.

“I think you look very good.”

You smile at him. Not a kind one, but the sort of condescending smile one gives a child who gave the wrong answer. A cute answer, though.

“Thanks,” you say, your eyes returning back to the door. “But I was asking if you thought I looked angry.”

The door beeps open and you are the first to leave. As you walk down the long hallway, you hear the boys walking a yard behind you. They’re nervous, that much you can sense on the cold bare skin of your back.

You stop at the lab door at the end of the hall and wait for the boys to catch up. It’s the biggest lab on the fourth floor.

Viktor now has his keys at the ready and unlocks the large wooden door, then holds it open for you to enter before the two boys. How spoiled you are.

You saunter into the lab, letting Jayce’s coat fall all the way down your shoulders before draping it on a stool next to the counter. They attempt to ignore you, bee-lining toward their desks in the lab but you catch each time their eye wanders to you on the opposite side of the room. Often they alternate, glancing over while the other is talking about the equations they're working through or the tools they need to assemble something. Every so often, they look over at you at the exact same time, following whispers you can’t quite make out, and when they do it is absolutely silent.

Meanwhile, you’re pouring the wine that you’ve been stashing in the cabinet meant for volatile chemical solutions. You’ve laid out three glasses, but you only fill the one in the middle. You sip from it slowly, your eyes peeking out from above the glass rim so you can catch them every time they look over at you.

“What are you doing?” Jayce asks, exasperatedly, finally.

“What do you mean?” You ask, and continue to sip your wine.

“We said we were sorry–”

“No, actually you didn’t.” You finish your glass and set it back down between the two empty glasses. “You said you understood if I was mad. And you tried to explain yourselves.”

“We are sorry,” Viktor said. “Terribly sorry. For lying, and for…objectifying you.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t objectification?” You said, still bitter despite the joy you extracted from teasing these poor boys.

“It doesn’t matter what we think we did or did not do,” Viktor said, the thickness of his accent swallowing his nervous words. “What matters is that you are hurt, and that we are terribly sorry.”

“I’m not hurt.”

“Eh…you’re not?” It wasn’t often that Viktor sounded confused, so you relished the question.

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Jayce asked.

You poured wine into the two glasses on either side of your own and smiled as you looked down at the liquid filling them. You pushed the glasses toward them and raised your eyebrows expectantly. As if well trained, they walked over to you at the counter and picked up their glasses, taking small sips each.

“You could call it disbelief,” you said. “Or plain shock.”

“I understand that we sprung a lot on you all at once–” Viktor started to say, but you raised your hand.

“I’m not in disbelief because you’re attracted to me, Viktor, I’m far too self-assured for that.”

Jayce stifles a laugh.

“I’m in disbelief because I’ve wasted three months pretending not to be attracted to either of you,” you say, coming out from behind the counter and going to sit on the couch in the center of the room. You’d done an excellent job decorating their lab and had managed to make it feel like a home rather than a detention room.

“What are you saying?” Jayce asks, setting his glass down and stepping toward you. Viktor follows his example.

“I’m saying that if you had just told me ages ago that you two felt that way, I’d be laughing at the men who asked to dance with me tonight instead of clenching my fists. I’ve spent three months pushing aside any thought of you two outside of professional settings because I didn’t want to be the naive little lab assistant fawning over her bosses.”

A strap of your dress slips off of your left shoulder, and you let it.

“What a waste,” you scoff as you lean back into the cushions of the couch. You pick your hair up so that it falls over the cushions and cascades like a waterfall.

“So…” you watch as the gears in Jayce’s genius brain turn, “if we had told you sooner then–”

“Then you could have had me sooner.”

NSFW PART TWO????

#viktor arcane #viktor lol #jayce x reader #viktor x reader #jayvik #jayvik x reader #jayce talis #noooo jayce slander. i stand with my cancelled wife!!!#jayce arcane #slow burn #light angst #femreaderisamassivegirlbossimho #jayce x reader x viktor #viktor x reader x jayce

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